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mirandasidefics · 2 months ago

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Autumn Leaves

(Late Submission for @erisweekofficial Prompt: Bonds/Bargains 👑)

Pairing(s): Eris x Archeron Sister! Reader

Summary: Eris never anticipated to find his Mate in a former human.

Word Count: 3.1K

Warning(s): Mention of traumatic childbirth, mentions of Beron (he’s a trigger all on his own these days).

Author’s Note: BASED ON THIS REQUEST. I felt that this scenario fit perfectly with the prompt of Bonds/Bargains for Eris Week. I hope that this fits well with what you had wanted anon! I know the request specifically asked for Reader to be the youngest, but I felt that it would be a bit more inclusive to leave the birth order more ambiguous for those that maybe don’t relate to being the youngest sibling. My brain wasn’t functioning enough to allow me to write an understandable dance scene, so…sorry that it's not as descriptive as I would have preferred. I also didn’t go back to review any of the events that occurred in ACOWAR or ACOSF, so if it’s not exactly canon compliant just ignore that. Also, Lucien was at the Hewn City solstice ball for this because I said so.

Special thanks to @hardcoremarvelfan for beta reading and coming up with the title for this. Also, there will very likely be a part 2.

dividers by @/tsunami-of-tears ACOTAR Masterlist

The first time Eris saw the Made female he was immediately intrigued. She was quiet and stoic, much like the two sisters she accompanied for the High Lord’s meeting. Her eyes, the same shade as her sisters, appeared cold as she took in the room. It was clear she was observing more than she let on, gaze trained forward yet keenly aware of every single one of the High Lords and their various entourages. It was apparent to Eris that she saw more than her sisters, perhaps even more than his brother’s mate who was rumored to have been gifted the powers of a Seer by the Cauldron. He could feel the power that radiated off this fourth sister and couldn’t help but wonder what gifts she may have been granted.

The second time he saw her was at the end of the battle with Hybern on the edge of the Spring and Summer Court border. Her eyes appeared distant as if she was separated from her body and the gore that surrounded her. But his answer regarding her gift had been answered as a circle of ice forged spears surrounded her. At least a dozen bodies were skewered while she stood stock still in the center of the circle. He had been compelled to approach her, but his brother got to her first, asking if she was okay and if she had seen his mate. After a single nod and a pointed finger towards a series of tents Lucien gently guided her away from the carnage she wrought.

The third time he saw her was at the solstice ball in the Hewn City over a year later. Dressed in a drab black gown clearly intended to prevent her from sticking out. However, it wouldn’t have mattered if she was dressed down or in the most lavish of gowns. Eris’ eyes were instantly drawn to her as soon as she processed along with the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court. His youngest brother was by her side as an escort. As she approached the dias with her family, her eyes found his own, and Eris felt the world tilt on its axis. It took all of his mental will power to remain upright at the realization of what she was to him. Mate.

Eris couldn’t remove his eyes from the female as Rhysand made his speech. Nor could he remove them when the music started and various Fae in attendance began to dance. He followed every one of her steps as she was escorted towards the dance floor, a beautiful smile spread wide across plush pink lips. He was vaguely aware of Rhysand's approach, his introduction to the High Lady’s sister. The only one that was dressed to be admired by the eyes of others. Nesta, he believed it was. But Eris wasn’t interested in the female that stood before him. He held up a hand, instantly silencing the High Lord, and simply pointed to the sister on the dance floor.

“What is her name?” He asked, the light russet gaze never faltering. Eris could feel the tension in Nesta’s shoulders as she followed his gesture. Rhysand, always one to never give away his thoughts, supplied her name. Eris repeated it, the name tasting like honeyed wine in his mouth. Nesta attempted to redirect the conversation and offered Eris a dance, but the Autumn Heir ignored her.

“Any bargains that you wish to make will be offered by her,” Eris’ voice was smooth as his eyes finally met purple. “Shall I introduce myself or will you make the introduction for me?” Rhysand turned his head towards the direction where Lucien spun her around as the two waltzed. His youngest brother’s head whipped in their direction, before he halted his dance and brought her over for a formal introduction. As expected, the female politely accepted Eris’ invitation for a dance.

That first dance was all it took for Eris to know he didn’t want to be separated from her moving forward. Her demeanor was so different from what he had observed when he was only able to watch her from afar. He danced with only her for the remainder of the celebration and found himself completely enraptured by her. While he could tell that she wasn’t as strong a dancer as her sister, whom he caught out of the corner of his eye, it didn’t deter his conviction of only wanting to be by her side. Conversation flowed freely and easily as they danced. She was sharp witted, with a penchant for dry sarcasm. Her wry smile and her laugh ignited something deep within.

Eris always had a drive to protect those he cared for, such as his Mother and Lucien, but the desire to keep her safe was stronger than anything he had experienced before. He couldn’t leave her in the Night Court, even if most of her time was spent in a city far safer than the one in which they danced. However, she couldn’t exactly join him in the Autumn lest he run the risk of her becoming one of Beron’s targets to keep Eris in line. For the first time in decades, Eris didn’t know what to do.

“Is everything alright my Lord?” Her voice was filled with nothing but genuine gentle concern. His eyes refocused from their far away haze, taking in her sharp features. Features that were so indicative of the High Fae. Looking at her one would never guess that she used to be human.

“Eris,” He corrected. “Please.”

“Is everything alright, Eris?” Her cheeks flushed with the slightest tinge of pink. His own heart stirred at her reaction to the use of his name. Their dance had come to a halt, and he hadn’t even realized the musicians were taking a break.

“Yes,” He cleared his throat. “Just a bit lost in thought.” She nodded her head, taking a slight step back from his hold on her waist. Eris had to refrain from the desire to pull her back towards his chest.

“I’ve enjoyed our time together,” She took a look towards her sisters. All three were huddled against the edge of the dance floor. Nesta and Feyre’s sharp steel gazes attempted to pierce through the mask that Eris held in place. While the other, whose name he had sadly forgotten, had a glazed over look. Upon focusing, he noticed that the brown was nearly obscured by milky white. He heard the female in front of him gasp, her eyes trained on the Seer. Her head whipped back towards him, giving a slight nod.

“I hope that we are able to count on your discretion about the Trove,” Her speech was rushed and she gathered the bottom of her skirts. “I’m certain that the High Lord will provide support to any claim you have to being the Heir.” With a quick second bow in parting she turned to rush over to her sisters.

Before she got too far, Eris grasped her elbow and asked, “Would you come visit me? In Autumn?” She blinked at him. Almost as if she was surprised by his desire to see her again.

“I must get to my sister,” She glanced back across the hall, at the High Lady trying to gain the attention of the Seer who was clearly lost in a vision.

“I understand,” He released his grip and nodded solemnly. “I will write to you.” She blinked again. What he wouldn’t give to know what that beautiful mind was processing. She gave him a curt nod, before she quickly made her way across the hall.

Eris couldn’t even last a week before sending his first letter. Again he asked if she would be interested in visiting his home court. She provided no answer or any acknowledgement of his question. Of course this didn’t deter Eris as they continued to exchange letters. With each one he would make his offer, enticing her with descriptions of celebrations and various traditions. He would tell her about his Hounds and his Mother. Yet she continued to not provide an answer to his offer. This same pattern went on for three months before Eris had enough of the tip-toeing around the subject. He was determined to get an answer, even if it was “No”.

Eris arrived at what he assumed was Rhysand’s townhouse as the High Lord had instructed in his brief correspondence with the Autumn Heir. He tapped the back of his knuckles on the large oak door. A few brief moments drifted by with no response. No movement could be heard from inside either. He peered his head towards the large bay window at the front, but the curtains were drawn shut.

His heartbeat began to quicken with each passing moment as there continued to be no response. Eris was wholly unfamiliar with the city. He had no clue where to even begin looking for his mate. He was under the impression that he was at least expected by Rhysand. So why was no one here?

Eris turned, prepared to winnow to the Hewn City in the hopes that Keir may have knowledge of where the High Lord could be, despite how unlikely that prospect was. Instead, he came face to face with an ethereal looking female. Skin and hair dark as shadows. A billowy white dress hugged her frame, yet appeared as if it was floating in a barrier of invisible water. It took him a minute to recognize her as one of Rhysand’s half wraith servants from Under the Mountain.

“They are all at the High Lord and Lady’s home,” The female began to explain without preamble. “If you would follow me.” She turned, not bothering to ensure that the Autumn Lord followed. When the pair approached the near ostentatiously large home near the riverfront, screams could be heard from inside. If his heart hadn’t already been on the verge of an attack it surely was now. The half-wraith opened the front entrance, beckoning Eris to follow.

No sooner as he stepped inside did his mate come surrying down the main staircase of the foyer. A pile of blood stained sheets spilling over her arms. Her eyes were rimmed in scarlet. Stepping onto the bottom landing she finally looked up, taking notice of the male.

“Eris,” Her voice was no more than a whisper. Her lower lip wobbled, teeth sinking into it to prevent the tremble. Eris didn’t bother with formality, taking quick strides to meet her. As he reached her side, she dropped the pile of fabric and allowed her arms to encircle his waist. Her body shook with her sobs as her finger dug into his shoulders.

“Feyre went into labor unexpectedly,” She cried into the elaborate brocade of his tunic. “The babe…his wings…” She couldn’t get her thoughts out in a coherent manner without the sobs overtaking her completely. “ They’re dying, Eris.” She wailed upon hearing her own words spoken aloud. He pulled her in tighter to his chest, his other hand gently rubbing in soothing circles along her shoulders. Eris had no words that could provide her with any sort of comfort, making him feel as if he was already failing her as her Mate. All the male could do was hold her and hope that she didn’t feel as alone in her grief if the High Lady of the Night Court somehow didn’t survive.

Suddenly, Elain called out to her sister from the top of the staircase, “Come quick! Nesta she…” The warm brown eyes of the middle sister swam with unshed tears, a smile graced her features as well. Eris’ shoulders relaxed as the female's expression could only be an indication of good news. His mate quickly detached herself from his hold, racing back towards where the family convened.

As soon as the two were out of sight, Eris looked around the foyer. He quickly found a small bench and sat down. He had never felt more awkward in his life. While he had developed a correspondence with this particular sister, he wasn’t exactly part of the family just yet.

Eris sat in the hall, waiting for what felt like hours for his mate to return. Once she did, she escorted him into a large sitting room.

“They’re going to live,” She smiled, sitting down in a chair across from him. She smoothed out her skirt, tucking in a corner that had somehow ended up with blood spatter staining the material. Eris merely hummed in acknowledgment. He didn’t know what to do with himself now that they had a moment alone like this. He had planned this elaborate greeting and proposal for her to come and visit, not giving her the room to ignore the request. However, that all went right out the proverbial window. His hands straightened the fabric of his shirt, then went to remove a non-existent strand of hair from his trousers, before finally resting on his lap.

“You’re fidgeting,” She pointed out. Her smile grew as she suppressed a giggle. He was happy to see that her mood had lifted so quickly. It made the reason for his visit appear less strange, inappropriate even given the intensity of the events that occurred. She gently placed one of her hands over his. Her delicate fingers soothing and calming the rolling fire that he didn’t even notice had built up within himself. He allowed himself to grasp her hand in return, interlacing their digits. The sensation of fire against ice erupted throughout his being. Opposite yet still a perfect complement of powers. Eris couldn’t help but wonder what they would be able to achieve together.

“Eris,” Her voice pulled him from his thoughts, his deep hues meeting her own cool gaze. “I’m happy to see you, but what are you doing here?” He swallowed, suddenly realizing that his actions were a bit sudden and perhaps not as well thought out as he intended. His arrival without notice to her would be unexpected. He only informed Rhysand that he needed to speak to Archeron female, but never explained why.

“I,” He began, voice cracking. His pale features flushed and he was reminded of his younger days when his voice hovered between childhood and deeper timber of maturity. The female before him suppressed another giggle behind her unclasped hand.

“I’m here because you consistently ignore a very specific question,” His gaze was steady, exuding what he hoped would be seen as confidence and not the uncertainty he felt. “I’ve come to ask one final time. If you say no, I will not burden you with asking ever again.”

“Eris,” She pulled her hand away, eyes now unable to meet his own.

“I acknowledge that Autumn is not always considered the most beautiful, what with the decay that can accompany the season in the mortal lands, so if you don’t like it-”

“Why would I not like the place where my mate lives?” Her perfect brows furrowed as she looked at him. Eris was at a loss for words.

“When…” He couldn’t finish the sentence. However, it appeared that he didn’t need to as her response was a perfect correlation to what was on his mind.

“Since the Winter Solstice,” She said. “When you first asked me to come visit.” It was Eris’ turn to blink in stunned silence. She had given no indication of being aware of who he was to her. Then again, he also hadn’t explicitly made their bond known. Perhaps he was wrong in thinking that his actions were obvious.

“It’s not that I’m afraid that I won’t like it there,” She went on. “I’m actually afraid that I would not want to leave. But I simply can’t abandon my sisters.” She lowered her head, averting her gaze from the embarrassment. However, Eris understood the desire to be with her siblings. The same desire to ensure the well-being and safety of his younger brothers was one of his reasons for not abandoning the Autumn court. For enduring the cruelty of his Father for nearly 5 centuries.

“I would never ask that you do,” He assured. “In fact, I wouldn’t want you to call the Autumn Court home just yet anyway. Not while my father still breathes.”

“I’m not afraid-”

“I am,” Eris admitted quietly. “I can’t risk anything happening to you.” He meant it, and was surprised at how easily the truth slipped from him. But it was just the two of them at this moment. He didn’t have to hide behind that mask when with her. He tucked a strand of (h/c) hair behind the perfectly pointed arch of her ear. He watched a shiver run through her as his flesh met hers.

“There are some places where I can keep you safe,” He explained, all of his thoughts spewing forth as his mind raced to prove that he could keep her safe enough for short visits. “Places where my Father doesn’t have the loyalty of the subjects, but they are loyal to me. I have a cabin, just along the borders of Summer and Winter. Close enough for you to run across either should the need arise. I’d prefer Summer, there is a temple not far from the border where you could claim sanctuary until Rhysand or one of the brutes could get you.”

“Eris…”

“Please,” He implored. “I do not wish to scare you away or force you to come. But I cannot stay separated from you much longer. My brother is the one with the endless amounts of patients when it truly matters.” She laughed, the melodic and soft sound made him feel light.

“How often can we meet?” She inquired. Her bright blue eyes lit with anticipation of when they could have their time.

“I can secure a few days away every month,” He explained, almost more to himself than her as he considered the variety of excuses he would need to utilize. “Maybe up to a week at most. The time of month would need to vary as well. Any semblance of a pattern would tip my Father off. He’s just paranoid enough to assume that I’d be planning some type of conspiracy against him.” Of course, his Father’s fears were not without reason. Eris was indeed planning to usurp the High Lord. Someday.

“Alright then,” She beamed. “I will come and visit. Every month so long as it is safe and as long as I am able to return to my sisters.” Eris felt the corners of his mouth lift up, and soon she mirrored the expression. His heart flipped, and he had to clear his throat to regain control of his senses.

“Then I shall send word when everything is ready.” He stood, preparing to leave when she clasped his hand again.

“Stay for a while Eris,” Her voice was soothing, making it feel like she wasn’t giving him a command. Even if she had, he would have gladly done anything she bid of him. He knew in that instant he would do anything for her.

General Tag list: @loving-and-dreaming @samslulumelon

#acotar x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris x reader #eris x you #eris x y/n #erisweek2024

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readychilledwine · 9 months ago

Note

Hi I hope you’re doing well! Can I request an azriel x feysands daughter reader fic where azriel leaves velaris and the inner circle temporarily after elain chooses lucien over him. He comes back like 50 years later and at that point rhys and feyre have two kids, nyx and reader. Azriel meets reader at a bar and the bond snaps, azriel is so shocked by the bond snapping that he doesn’t notice that she looks just like rhys and feyre. After going on dates and stuff, reader introduces azriel to her parents and everyone is hella confused.

Small World

Warnings - best friends daughter, implied smut, angry rhys

A/N - Azriel can't catch a break. Poor guy. Also, peep this cute divider from @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Part Two is Here

Azriel held your hand tight as you two walked through Velaris. You were running late to a family dinner where he'd be meeting your parents, brother, and a few other people for the first time.

He watched familiar streets passing by, shadows grown eerily quiet. You stopped at a familiar restaurant, one he had frequented over 20 years ago. He came here with Rhys and Cassian almost weekly before they became mated, and he left the Night Court for 20 years.

He had told you his story of a beautiful love forbidden to him due to her mating bond. He had told parts of his past, of his journeys outside of night, of the past years he had spent healing.

He had been back in Velaris for almost 3 years. 2 of which were spent solely with you.

You had been moving into the apartment next to his when you two crossed paths. You had been struggling to carry a heavy box, so he had taken it from you, helping you get it into your apartment.

That quick interaction turned into nights spent reading together so you both weren't alone. Then coffee in the mornings. Then days spent shopping. Evenings spent out to dinner.

You two spoke about everything.

Well.

Almost everything.

Families were a mostly banned topic.

Azriel knew you had a brother 5 years older than you. He knew both of your mother was involved in your life, as well as married and mated. He knew you had 2 blood aunts, one of which was married, one of which was not. He knew your father was a banned topic.

You knew he had 2 blood brothers, the ones who had scarred his hands, 2 chosen brothers, and several others he considered family. That his mother was wonderful, that he hoped his father found a shallow grave.

But you had told him bringing family into your love life normally ended poorly.

And he had told you he had not been around or spoken to his found family since he left.

You two closed that book, choosing to be just you and him.

You stopped before hitting the private back room Azriel had been in many times. "As a reminder, my dad and brother are dicks."

Azriel leaned down kissing you softly. "I can handle a few assholes, angel."

You sighed heavily. "Just remember, I didn't tell you because they ruin everything. Please." He nodded again, resting his forehead on yours.

You two stood there breathing for a few seconds as he ran a hand through your sandy blonde hair. "Let's just go in. An hour," he murmured, moving to kiss your neck. "One hour and then we go home."

Home.

The cabin you two had just purchased and moved into.

Small. Intimate. Cozy.

Everything you two both didn't know the other never knew.

Everything you two wanted as soon as the bond snapped a couple months ago.

You shared one last kiss, opening the door.

Your father and mother had their backs to you, speaking with your brother who instantly paled the second he saw who you were with.

Azriel had gone stiff, eyes locked with a shocked Cassian.

Nesta almost dropped her wine with a gasp, handing flying to her mouth as she stepped back and shook her head.

Azriel looked at you again. Studying you harder.

Sandy blonde hair.

Button nose.

High cheek bones.

Part illyrian.

Eyes that reflected starlight.

Eyes that were near violet.

Rhysand's eyes.

"Mom, dad," you approached them, ignoring the tension in the room and pulling Azriel with you.

Rhys turned first, whiskey glass shattering in his grip before a look of shock and anger hit him. Feyre immediately turned after that. She was too stunned to move. "This is my mate and boyfriend-"

Elain whispered before you could finish, eyes watering with sadness and hope, "Azriel."

Rhys nodded, scratching his jaw. "I know who he is, babygirl."

Azriel watched you as you looked between them before your face fell. "You're that Azriel."

Feyre clapped her hands, forcing light and air into the room. "Let's sit and eat! This is a um, lovely, surprise. We should all be excited!"

Aunt Elain immediately moved, sitting on Azriel's other side. His hand found yours under the table, lacing your fingers together. Your father sat across from him, mother to one side, Cassian to the other. Nyx sat next to Nesta and her Elain as you all eat at the circled table.

"So where have you been," Nyx refused to be intimated by the situation, secretly filing this away as an example of why he was the better child. "And when did you start seeing my sister?"

Azriel shifted, clearing his throat. "I spent the last 17 years traveling the world. I've been back in Velaris for 3 years. I started seeing y/n 2 years ago."

Cassian drank his beer as if it was water before setting the mug down and refilling it. "You have been back for 3 years and didn't think to yourself that you should go visit your brothers?"

"I wasn't ready."

"But you were ready enough to fuck my daughter as a revenge move?"

"Rhys!" "Dad!"

Rhys put a hand up to your mother and gave you a look. "You would feel the same had it been Elain who ran, Feyre Darling. And you," he turned towards you. "You should have told me who he was."

"Do not speak to her like that. She is not a child."

Nesta looked up, sending a silent prayer to the Cauldron. "She is my child," Rhys growled. "You've been bedding your niece."

Nesta slammed her hands down, "Enough! She is not his niece by blood, and she is clearly upset. If you all cannot be civil, I'm taking y/n home." The room went silent with Lady Death's power flickering through it. "This is the first real family meal we have gotten to have in 20 years," a sad gaze met Azriel's. Guilt shook him, reminding him if the friendship he and Nesta had formed. The friendship he had abandoned. "Can we please just enjoy it."

You were uncomfortable, tears beginning to form as his scarred hand refound yours under the table and squeezed. Rhys nodded, going back to his food as the sound of utensils barely scraping and drinks being poured filled the air.

You should have put two and two together.

Scarred hands.

Massive wingspan.

Mysterious male.

Pretty dagger.

Of course he was that Azriel. The Azriel your Aunt Elain had been pining for for years now.

The Azriel who left in the dead of night leaving only a note.

The Azriel whose seat sat empty your whole life as your dad's stare always lingered on it.

You squeezed his hand back, glancing at the white wine on the table and your empty glass. It was a rare occurrence for you to drink, but now seemed like the perfect time. "Daddy, can I have some wine please?"

You hadn't thought about that either as two deep male voices replied as they reached for the wine, "Of course, baby."

The silence was deafening. Your real father too stunned to speak, Azriel's face growing red with embarrassment.

Cassian, always the joyful uncle, broke into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, as did your mother. The two of them gripping each other tightly as your father sat blinking over and over, trying to erase this moment from him mind.

It was then the tears fell, and you stood, leaving them to eat as you went into the bathroom.

Azriel and Rhys stared at each other. "We have to get through this for her. You have to get over it. It would have happened regardless of me being here or me leaving."

Rhys growled. "You left without warning, without consulting us, without-"

"You told me to do whatever I needed do to move on and prevent war with Autumn and Day. I did what I had to. I got help, I saw the world, I moved on. I did not plan on coming home and meeting y/n. I didn't even know she was yours until tonight." Azriel took a deep breath before turning to Nesta. "She needs you. Please."

She stood, her and Feyre went after the young female without hesitation. Nyx stood, offering an arm to Elain and forcing her from the room as his father and uncles, well, uncle and soon to be brother, spoke. "You want to talk about fucked up abandonment, Rhys? Where the hell have you been the past two years of her life?"

"Do not speak to me about things you do not understand or know about."

"How can he know," Cassian started gently. "How can he know how we're all working on fixing our relationships with her if we don't tell him. We aren't innocent, Rhys. Maybe this is the first step. Accepting them, loving them despite everything," a silent message was sent to Azriel through Cassian's eyes, "Maybe that's what it takes to bring y/n home."

Rhys looked up, eyes being to line with tears. "What does she say about me?"

Azriel sighed, drinking his whiskey heavily. "That her father favored her brother. Despite his power and ability to look and find the truth, he believed her brother without hesitation and would punish her for his actions at times. That he threatened her once by reminding her that as an illyrian, and as a female, her worth was in whom she was sold to."

Azriel watched the visible flinch. "I can't help but to wonder how bad the argument must have been for that to have been what you said to her."

"I caught her with Tamlin," Rhysand's voice broke. "I caught them whispering about running away together. About sailing somewhere and living out their lives, just the two of them now that he handed Spring over to his heir. She didn't know what he had done to Feyre, who he was. I," Rhys shook his head. "I lost my shit without explaining. Tamlin also didn't know she was mine. I hid her so well for her protection. To prevent anyone from trying to purchase her. I did such a great job protecting her that my protection backfired and she began to rebel."

Cassian sighed softly. "She moved out because Rhys told her he gave up. That if she wanted to explore the world without his hands, without our guidance, then that's what she should go do. He set her up with enough money to last 5 years, bought that apartment complex you two live in, and sent her on her way."

"She just doesn't listen."

Azriel shook his head. "Why would she listen when she isn't heard? From her side, you treat her like your father treated Selene."

"I love her much more than my father ever loved my sister."

"Then show her," Azriel leaned back into his chair. "Show her before I take her from this place, too."

Cassian stiffened, his breathing becoming deep but strained. "They're about to come out. Y/n wants to leave."

Azriel stood, "Then we go. I won't force her to stay here. Let me know when you're ready to talk, Rhys. And if you never are, do not be surprised when I do what I have to in order to keep her safe and happy."

You were out the door quickly and into Azriel's chest, shadows pulling you two away to wherever he took you for comfort, to wherever you felt safe. Feyre turned to Rhys, fire blazing in her eyes, "Fix. This."

PS - there will be a part two

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu

#acotar #acotar x reader #send asks #azriel acotar #send anons #azriel x reader #azriel #rhys acotar #cassian acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel x y/n

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cressidagrey · 4 months ago

Text

I breathe flames each time I talk - Chapter 4

Summary:

The story of how Oriana Fireborn Belmont finally meets her mate's family.

Also the story of how Rhysand, The High Lord of the Night Court, finally recognises that by the cauldron, there is no fury like a female scorned.

Azriel would just like everybody to get along.

Warnings:

Rhys Bashing, Serious Injury

Notes:

I put a lot of world building into this. If you don't recognise it from canon, I probably invented. Or I forgot that canon existed.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

Apparently, her brothers' night spent with too much Fireale and their resulting tale of Oriana just suddenly appearing before them, had resulted in Titania screaming at the hungover trio from the top of her lungs for getting drunk enough to hallucinate.

Enya had just let their sister scream at their brothers because hearing Titania screech had apparently been much more amusing than trying to clear up the resulting confusion.

“You are favouring your right side. What happened?” Enya demanded, after Oriana and Azriel’s shadows had once again kidnapped her and Oriana sighed. It was pure wishful thinking that she could get away with hiding it.

“It’s a long story,” she started but held still as Enya’s magic wafted over her. Checking on her.

“You have two cracked ribs, Oriana,” her sister said tightly, glaring at her. Right. That explained why it hurt.

“Azriel’s brother was so worried about him that he shattered my fucking wards…” she started to explain.

“And he shattered your ribs too?” Enya snapped.

“You said they were cracked,” Oriana quipped and Enya just glared at her, though reached into her back to give her balm of something that she knew was going to at least soothe the ache. It would take a few days to completely disappear but the sharp pain she had with every breath would disappear.

“The next time, you shatter something of him,” Enya told her commandingly.

“I put his hair on fire, does that count?” she asked, unscrewing the jaw and untrucking the shirt she wore from her skirt to put the salve on her skin.

“Yes, it does,” Enya harrumphed, still not seeming particularly about it. Still, Oriana could deal with that.

Once her ribs stopped hurting that badly, she watched as her sister checked on Azriel.

Her brows furrowed and Oriana’s heart picked up, not liking at all what Enya wasn’t saying.

“He’s healing,” Enya finally said. “But you have a choice to make.”

“What kind of choice?” Oriana asked carefully, preparing herself for the bad news.

“nothing bad,” Enya promised her. “I can keep him out for a while longer. But his magic is surging.”

That didn’t sound good.

“What does that mean?” Oriana asked quietly, staring at Azriel’s prone form. What was he doing?”

“For him? He’s searching. He wants to wake up. He’s a warrior?” Enya asked her and she just nodded. “He’s searching for a threat. Probably to you. He’s fighting against the magic I am using to keep him down and I am not certain that he won’t succeed.”

“And if you don’t let him wake up carefully, he could force himself awake,” Oriana ended quietly. Enya nodded.

“That would be… extremely disconcerting to him. But if I lift it now…he’s nowhere ready to be on his feet. You’ll need to do your best to keep him off his feet and in bed for at least three days.”

Right.

“He’ll be on pain potions?” she checked and Enya nodded.

“They won’t be enough to knock him out,” she warned Oriana.

She just nodded.

“Do it.”

“I’ll lift it, but you should probably get out of his range,” Enya warned her.

So that if Azriel came up swinging, she wasn’t caught in the crossfire.”

“You go out of his range,” she said quietly. “I am his mate.”

She was going to stay right there, touching the green dome and waiting to reach out for him. She was going to be right there when he woke up.

“What if he hurts you?” Enya asked, for the first time concentrating on Azriel’s scarred hands that rested on his chest.

Oriana wondered what her sister was thinking, what she didn’t say.

“He won’t hurt me,” she promised Enya quietly. He wouldn’t. But she wasn’t willing to even take that risk because she knew that Azriel would never forgive himself for it if it indeed happened.

“You don’t know if he is gonna be in his right mind, Oriana,” Enya said sharply.

“I know. But he won’t hurt me. I’ll use his shadows,” she promised her sister, Enya’s eyebrows moving into her hairline.

“You’ll use his shadows?” she repeated, sounding more amused by anything.

Oriana just shrugged. “If he comes up swinging, can you hold him down?” she asked the shadows quietly. “Only then. Only if…he tries to hurt me. He wouldn’t forgive himself if he did…”

She could feel them tighten in response, then flow out from the shadows underneath the bed, gathering in her skirts, waiting.

She nodded to Enya. The doe went down with a shimmering of magic.

Oriana reached out, touching his face. “Azriel,” she said softly. “Azriel, listen to me.” Suddenly movement was back in him, a soft groan leaving his chapped lips. “It’s me, Sweetling. You’ll be alright,” she promised him, a litany of soft words leaving her lips as she finally watched hazel eyes slide open. She blinked back the tears that wanted to roll down her cheeks at that.

And then she was incredibly grateful for her requests to his shadows because he indeed came up swinging up, even as she cupped his face in her hands.

“Azriel. It’s Oriana. You are safe,” she told him calmly.

His eyes seemed to calm, his body still heaving against his shadows.

“Oriana,” he said her name like he wasn’t quite sure if it was right, if it was her name if he remembered her, but then his gaze seemed to clear. “What…what happened?” he whispered hoarsely.

“If I have your shadows let go, are you going to stop fighting?” she asked softly, not for one moment thinking that leaving him restrained was a good idea. Not like this.

He nodded.

The shadows immediately let go as he sank back down onto the bed.

“What happened?” he asked her, and she reached for a glass of water, holding it against his lips.

“You were really stupid,” she said lightly. “Your little decision of coming straight home to me resulted in a lot of inner bleeding.”

She let the words stand in the room for just a minute, before she could hear Enya shift and Azriel’s gaze snapped to her, eyes immediately trying to assess the threat.

“That’s just Enya,” Oriana explained quietly. “My sister. I told you about her. She’s a healer. You needed a healer. She was the first one I thought of.”

Azriel still stared at her, but Enya seemed to ignore that.

“Nice to meet you. Though I wish it was under very different circumstances. You’ll be fine,” she told Azriel drily.

He blinked twice.

“Thank you,” he finally forced out, voice still hoarse.

“Maybe you’ll keep a scar but I have a salve for that,” Enya continued. “Oriana knows everything that you are and aren’t allowed to do that. Listen to her. She saved your life.”

“You saved his life,” Oriana disagreed. Her sister just rolled her eyes.

“Think one of your shadows can get me home?” she asked. “If I stay any longer, Titania is probably going to wonder where I disappeared to.”

“Just tell her the truth, she won’t believe a word,” Oriana advised sagely, making Enya snort as a wisp of shadow came to whisk her sister away.

“Thank you,” she said quietly before Enya disappeared.

Azriel weakly stared at where her sister had just disappeared into a cloud of shadows.

“We’ve used your shadows as a sort of transportation system the last two days,” she said quietly. “I would apologise but you nearly died on me because you were being utterly unreasonable, so now you need to deal with it,” she continued. Azriel seemed to pull himself out of whatever he had been thinking, a hand reaching out for hers.

She cradled it in his, holding it against her face, pressing a kiss to the palm of it.

“I love you,” she whispered. “I am never going to be alright with losing you. I know that what happened wasn’t your fault that your job is dangerous and that you can’t do anything against it,” she explained quickly as she saw him open his mouth to disagree with her. “But I love you. And I need you to come home to me. After you had a healer look you over,” she said pointedly. “I am not going through this again.”

She was not.

And as she watched him lay in their bed, awake and talking…it was…suddenly the last few days crashed into her and she couldn’t help the tears that started to roll over her cheeks. This was…Azriel was everything she hadn’t even known she had wanted or needed. And she wasn’t willing to part with him. Not now. Not never.

“I’m…sorry,” he apologised to her, his voice halting, one hand clumsily turning to cup her cheek. “Don’t want to make you cry.”

No, of course, he didn’t. She turned into his touch unable not to, unable not to enjoy every damn moment of it that she could get away with it.

She loved him so much, the bond between them no longer as unnaturally still as it had been before. It was there now, alive and well in her chest, thrumming with her love and his.

“Then don’t be an idiot,” she whispered, making him groan with a laugh that then turned into a jaw-cracking yawn.

She could feel his exhaustion. He would be tired, and Enya warned her of that. It would take a few hours until the magic would be out of his system and he would feel better.

And then it would be time for potions and draughts and all of that. But that was a worry for a few hours.

“Go to sleep,” Oriana said quietly, fussing with the blankets, as he shifted, turning to his side, his wings behind him, fluttering.

He hummed his agreement and she knew that he still must be utterly exhausted to agree this easily. Still, Oriana pressed a kiss to his forehead and she could feel him relax against her. “Stay. Please,” Azriel requested, eyes slipping closed, breathing evening out already.

“Of course,” she agreed softly, reaching out to run her fingers through his hair. “I’ll stay. For however long you want me to. I’ll stay ,” she promised him.

And she did.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

He didn’t remember much of the night. Or from actually waking up. Oriana was there in his memories, fighting to stay with her, fighting to stay awake so that he could protect her because he didn’t know what happened and he had needed to…

He remembered that desperation easily.

The rest…it was a bit of a mess.

When he woke up the next morning, his mind had cleared. He remembered the mission in the Winter Court and he remembered coming home and the sudden nausea during the night. The rest was mostly gone, though he did remember Enya.

He finally had a face to the stories of Oriana’s sister.

Though he would have preferred to meet her while not half out of his mind. And the fact that Oriana had commanded the shadows while he had been unconscious…that was something he needed to think about.

Oriana was fussing at him the next morning, fluffing pillows and making him breakfast and he let her do that only because he was too tired to protest. And maybe there was a part of him that…enjoyed her attention. Enjoyed the way she ran her hands through his hair and made him porridge with blueberries, his favourite… enjoyed every instance of Sweetling from her.

“I am fine,” he tried to insist, but she wasn’t having that.

“You aren’t,” she told him drily. “That word is now banned.”

He couldn’t help but snort and immediately regretted it because his stomach was still killing him. “You can’t do that,” he protested.

“Watch me,” Oriana gave back haughtily. She cleaned up the tray his breakfast had been on and stood up. The movement wasn’t as smooth as it normally was, nearly jerkingly. Like she expected a pain to appear, to stab her in the left side.

“Why are you favouring your right side?” he asked her, worry immediately flooding his mind. She pushed back with it with no small amount of love.

“Everything is alright. Enya already checked me out,” she assured him. “I cracked two ribs.”

What? When? “When?” he asked her. “How?”

“While you were sleeping, Sleeping Beauty,” she teased him, disappearing out of the room to bring the tray into the kitchen and he waited impatiently until she returned.

“How?” he demanded as she came back. Her lips pursing, clearly thinking through something and she sat down at the edge of the bed, close to him again.

“Right,” she said carefully. “Regardless of how angry you get, you are going to stay in this bed,” she warned him.

He glowered at her, but Oriana just raised one fine eyebrow at him, clearly waiting until he agreed. Finally, he succumbed, giving a jerky nod.

“I should probably have told you before, but I wanted to wait until you were more in your mind again. It’s nothing bad,” she assured him as she caught his glance. “Or at least I hope you don’t think it’s anything bad.”

There was no small amount of…hesitation in her words at that. She was speaking in riddles and he had no idea what this was about.

“Your brother showed up,” Oriana finally said quietly.

“My brother,” he repeated flatly. Cassian or Rhys. Which one?

“Cassian,” Oriana answered the unspoken question.

Cassian. Cassian knew the house. Cassian probably had been worried and that’s why he had shown up. Still.

“What exactly does Cassian have to do with you cracking two of your ribs?” he demanded.

“Well,” Oriana started. “First he crashed through my warding net, which by the way, was very rude. And then he maybe tackled me to the floor and held a knife to my throat?” she offered, pulling a grimace and Azriel closed his eyes for a moment.

“I am fine, I swear!” Oriana assured him.

Cassian. Cassian had forced himself through Oriana’s ward and then thrown her to the fucking floor and held a cauldron-forsaken knife to her throat ?

“He held a knife to your throat,” he forced out, every word clipped. He stared at her throat, unblemished skin. At least he hadn’t actually cut into her skin.

“Well, I melted that,” Oriana assured him. “And my warding net burned off half his hair so I think we are even. Even with the two cracked ribs.”

Yeah, he definitely disagreed with that.

“Let me see,” he insisted instead. Oriana sighed.

“Azriel.”

“Let me see,” he repeated.

She gave in. Only now he realised that she wasn’t wearing one of her usual dresses but a skirt and a shirtwaist, probably because she was unable to actually lift her arms enough to put on a dress, thanks to her cracked ribs.

She opened the buttons at the side of her skirt that kept it closed and then pulled up the shirt she wore, baring her ribcage to her. Her skin was so dark that bruises were pretty much invisible on it to him, but he still reached out and felt along her ribcage, until she hissed at his prodding. He repeated the motion, feeling her warm skin under his touch and the way where it was swollen and hot to the touch.

“See, it’s nothing bad,” Oriana assured him.

Nothing bad?

“I am going to rip his fucking throat out,” he hissed, pulling her shirt back down and closing the buttons himself. He was. He was going to fucking kill Cassian for this!

“You are not. He’s your brother,” Oriana disagreed and he snapped.

“He could have killed you!” He could have. So bloody easily. Regardless of how magical Oriana was, she wasn’t the General of the Night Courts Army. She hadn’t spent 500 years fighting for his bloody life the way Cassian did for a living.

“But he didn’t,” Oriana hurried to assure him. “He didn’t, Sweetling,” she cooed, but even that just made him huff in frustration. “You aren’t supposed to leave the bed for three days. Healer’s order,” she told him drily, as he shifted. “And I know you want to disagree with me, but don’t. I’ll have your shadows tie you up if need be. Don’t even think about it,” she warned him.

Cauldron boils him.

“But…” he started to protest but Oriana cut him off.

“You’ll behave, and I’ll give you a treat once you are done,” she said easily, a grin on her face and he could just stare at her. What?

Where did that come from suddenly? She was pushing so much love and affection at him that he could feel himself wilt together like some kind of weed.

”What kind of treat?” he asked her, curious beside himself.

“Well, what do you want?” Oriana asked with a grin, that was definitely on the side of salacious.

He definitely realised what she was doing but he couldn’t stop himself.

“I…” he stuttered, unsure of what exactly she wanted him to say.

“How about what I have wanted for weeks, but you never let me return the favour. How about that, Azriel?” Oriana said lightly as she stood up and he couldn’t help but swallow as he knew exactly what she was suggesting.

“I…” He just about managed a nod.

“Good. Go to sleep, sweetling,” she cooed. “I’ll let Cassian know you are awake. He’ll probably want to come over. And don’t even think about killing him.”

He did go to sleep again, though he woke up as soon as he heard Cassian at the front door, his brother’s booming voice saying hello to Oriana and he forced himself into a sitting position as Oriana led him into the bedroom.

“Azriel.” There was relief on his brother’s face but Azriel was too fucking angry to even think about that.

“Don’t even think about it,” Oriana snapped as he swung his legs over the edge of his bed, the shadows poised to keep him down if he even bothered to try.

Still, he did. Let nobody ever tell anybody that Azriel wasn’t the most stubborn idiot on this side of the Sidra

“You broke two of her ribs. I am going to kick your ass,” he huffed out, trying to stand, as the shadows finally bore down onto him, pressing him back down.

“What?” Cassian asked, sounding incredulous and shocked at the same time. “I did?” he asked, looking to Oriana, who had crossed her arms, staring at the shadows as he still struggled against their gentle grip.

“You did,” she agreed. “It’s fine. Azriel is just being…”

“Azriel is fucking furious,” he snapped, finally giving up the shadows not even bothering to let go of him. “And it’s not fine!”

“It’s not,” Cassian agreed. “I am sorry. That wasn’t my intention,” he told Oriana, actually sounding remorseful.

“I know. You thought I was keeping Azriel hostage,” she said drily. “Sweetling, go back to bed,” she told him drily, another look to his shadows that started fluffing his pillows in response.

“Do they listen to you?” Casisan asked, sounding incredisouly.

“They like her better than they like me,” Azriel growled in response, letting the shadows tug him back into bad like a wayward child.

“It’s because I am nicer,” Oriana quipped. “Sweetling, if you even think about leaving this bed again, I’ll know and my revenge will be swift,” she warned him. “I’ll leave you two to it,” she said. “I’ll be making dinner.”

And off Oriana went. Azriel half expected to be teased for the term of endearment but Cassian said nothing.

He huffed at the shadows and pulled the blankets back up to his chin, even when he pushed them down again, and Cassian shook his head in amusement, picking up the armchair they kept in one corner and playing it next to the bed, so that he could sit down properly.

“You heard her. You stay lying down,” Cassian said as he sat down and Azriel shifted again. He just glared at his brother.

“I am really sorry for breaking her ribs,” Cassian apologised again and he sighed, letting go of some of the anger he was having about it. It was…well, it wasn’t fine. It wasn’t.

“I know,” he responded quietly. He did know that.

“And for holding a knife to her throat,” Cassian continued.

“I know,” he repeated. “Seems like she got you though,” he said with a look at Cassian’s short shorn hair. Cassian’s fave took on a grievous expression.

“That and melted my favourite knife straight out of my hand,” he admitted to Azriel, sounding like he was taking the loss hard and Azriel couldn’t help but grin.

“If you ask nicely, maybe she’ll make you a new one,” he suggested. It would be better than any other knife that Cassian had, that much was for certain.

“She made Nesta’s hairpins, didn’t she?” Cassian asked, suddenly seemingly making the connection.

“Yes.”

“You took me to her shop!” Cassian said incredulously. “For the hair comb!”

“I did,” he agreed with a soft smile. He had done that.

“You are horrible at keeping secrets,” Cassian told him drily.

It was a stab in his chest. After…After they officially bonded…keeping Oriana a secret hadn’t been high on his list of priorities anymore. At least not from Cassian. Keeping her a secret from Casisan had only ever been on his mind because he had wanted to keep her from Rhys.

“She was never a secret from you,” he finally said quietly.

Cassian just looked at him for a moment.

“Just from Rhys,” his brother said evenly and his head snapped up. “We had a bit of a throwdown,” Cassian answered the unspoken question.

“Cassian,” he said with a sigh. “It’s not his fault that this happened. Yes, I told him that it probably was a bad idea but…”

“This? You think we had a throwdown about the stupid mission in Winter?” Cassian asked him, sounding incredulous.

“About what else?” Azriel wondered. About what else could Casisan and Rhys fight?

“About what happened at Solstice three years ago,” Cassian corrected him. “We had a throwdown about that.”

Oh.

“Nothing happened,” Azriel said tightly. He didn’t want to talk about this. he didn’t want to…

“Don’t lie to me. Don’t protect him, ” Cassian snapped. “Tell me why you never said anything,” Cassian demanded.

Azriel didn’t want to have this discussion, but clearly, Cassian wasn’t going to give in when the expression on his face was anything to go by.

“Tell me why you never said anything,” Cassian repeated, his voice harsh. “Rhysand admitted to it, you know. That he ordered you not to pursue Elain. That he ordered you to leave her alone. He said that you should go to a pleasure hall and pay for sex if you wanted it. All of it. ”

Azriel remembered. All of it. He remembered all of it.

“And you just…You just took it,” Cassian said quietly. “Why?”

“He’s the High Lord,” Azriel said quietly. It wasn’t the whole truth. Not really. There was more, like how…how he hadn’t thought that he deserved Elain anyway. It had been a nice dream and then it had been snatched from him…and that had hurt. It had hurt so much. Because it hadn’t been…

If Elain had turned him down, he could have dealt with that. Somehow that would have been less painful. Less painful than Rhys being the one that would…

“He’s our brother,” Cassian disagreed. “He’s your brother.” He was. “It wasn’t right what he did. None of this was right. Azriel, he…”

“Don’t,” Azriel cut him off with a sigh. “It’s alright.” It was. In a sense it was.

He could…Now…now when he was here, right at home in the lakehouse and he could still smell bonfire and Jasmine surrounding him, could remember the warm body of Oriana sleeping right next to him…as long as he had that…anything else didn’t really matter anymore. It didn’t.

“It’s not alright,” Cassian snapped. “None of this alright. That’s why you don’t come to family dinners. That’s why you don’t let him anywhere close to your private life. Why you keep your mate a secret from us all. It’s his fault!”

“Just until…until the mating bond was consummated,” Azriel said quietly. “I couldn’t…He couldn’t take her from me then.”

Not anymore.

“That was something you worried about?” Cassian asked, looking absolutely gutted, like his heart was breaking. “That Rhys was going to take her from you?”

“I…I do not say that it was particularly logical,” he admitted quietly. “But he…he did…he did tell me to stay away from Elain. And I couldn’t stay away from Oriana,” he whispered. “I saw her and I just…she’s everything,” he said quietly. “She’s brilliant and beautiful and so magical that it takes my breath away every day. I look at her, and I am in awe, Cassian.”

He knew that Cassian would understand that. “She’s fucking terrifying,” Cassian finally said and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“You think so?” he asked and Cassian just stared at him.

“Yes.”

“Thank you, I work very hard at it,” Oriana’s voice came from the door and he turned toward her as she brought another tray of food. Soup and bread, which he put on his lap and then offered a bowl to Cassian too, who took it with a start of surprise.

“Eat,” she said quietly, then went to disappear again, a couple of shadows going skittering after her.

“Is that Illyrian flatbread?” Cassian asked surprised, taking a piece of it from the tray.

“I took her to meet Esmeray,” Azriel said quietly, looking at Oriana who was in the kitchen, shadows swirling around her skirt as she moved around.

“How did that work out?” Cassian asked curiously.

“She showed Oriana how to make bread and then gave her a blue rose,” he recounted quietly. “It was better than I could have hoped for in my wildest dreams.”

#My writing #Acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #A Court of Gold and Shadows #I breathe flames each time I talk

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beingsuneone · 1 year ago

Text

Tragedy

PART ONE | PART TWO

SYNOPSIS: You hadn’t lived in the Spring Court for a long time, not since the Night Court murdered your entire family except yourself and your brother, Tamlin. You don’t think about it much, except when you argue with Rhysand, when it becomes a threat. You always promise him that you’re sick of him and you’re going to return to Spring but you never do. Until you do.

FANDOM: A Court Of Thorns And Roses

PAIRING(S): Rhysand x Tamlin’s Sister!Fem!Reader

RATING: G

CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Cassian, Azriel, Tamlin, Mor, Amren

GENRE/AU: Pre-Amarantha/cusp of, some fluff, some angst, Lost Royalty Au (Tamlin’s lost Sister)

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

WARNINGS: Physical Violence (thanks Tam), mentions of arguments. LITERAL PHYSICAL ABUSE. TAMLIN SLAPS YOU.

A/N: the dividers looks best on dark mode, also dividers and header made my me :) also, this is both the first thing I’ve finished and the first fic I’ve posted since last year!! (My old fics aren’t up anymore) I reeeallly wanna write a pt 2.

DEDICATIONS: n/a

CREDITS: n/a

The snow crunches softly under your feet, which are already halfway to freezing and you’re only fifty paces outside of the townhouse.

You’d just had another fight with Rhysand and had threatened— for the millionth time— that you were going to return to Spring Court and live with your brother, Tamlin. The only member of your blood family still alive.

Both Rhysand and yourself know it’s not true. You’ve never made it down the first street in Velaris before you’re crawling back and begging Rhysand to forgive you. (Or visca versa)

Partly because you love him and largely because you’re terrified to return to Spring, No matter how petty your pride wishes to be.

When you were a young Fae, you had gone for a walk in the garden with your guard; It was late at night and you had been up due to nightmares. However, when you got closer to the Manor in Spring you heard a distinct scream and several loud noises, and your guard had immediately herded you as far as he could from the manor. All the way out of spring, and through the wall.

There, you were shunned by humans, and hunted by many; until a small family took you in, not caring about your pointy ears or inhuman beauty. They didn’t mind the flowers you magicked into existence or how you made their human babies laugh by shape-shifting. You were never dangerous to them, so they protected you until the day they died.

That was the day you returned to Prythian, mourning the loss of the only real family you had ever known.

Eventually you ended up in Night Court, wandering aimlessly around the vast nothingness of the court; you wondered why such a large and powerful court would seem to have almost no Fae in it— or even civilizations, for that matter. All you could see for miles and miles was mountains, trees, grass… anything in nature but no Fae.

You settled into a cave on the side of a cliff and foraged whatever food you could find. It wasn’t much but it kept you alive.

Until one day, a large winged man at the entrance of the cave, scared the ever-loving shit out of you.

“Oh- my Cauldron!” You had exclaimed, staring at who you now know to be Cassian.

He had given you a weird look and rudely remarked. “You’re awfully small for a Fae.” Then he amended, “although Amren is much smaller.”

You hadn’t known who Amren was, or what in the world he was talking about. “Who are you?” You asked him skeptically.

Cassian had opened his mouth to reply but then Rhysand walked through the door.

“I feel we should be asking you the same question.” He said smoothly. You had been immediately taken by him, his Deep Purple eyes and shadowy aura.

So much so, you almost hadn’t noticed the Mating Bond snapping into place.

Your eyes widened and one of his twitched as his cool expression dropped a moment. Rhysand, as good as he is at masks, wiped his emotions from his face a moment later.

He said, “Why don't you come along with us and tell us along the way.” He had paused and looked you up and down. “Certainly, it will be better than staying in this cave?”

You had just stumbled to your feet and nodded, taking Rhysand’s hand when he had extended to you.

That’s the moment that breaks you every time, what makes you turn right back around into Rhysand’s arms.

You remind yourself that he’s been with you for centuries now and he’s helped you heal more than you ever could on your own.

He’s the one who told you, despite his history with your family, that Tamlin was still alive; he was honest about his Family’s and his involvement in your family’s murder.

It had been hard not to hold it against him but you eventually forgave the man he is, not the kid he used to be. Besides, Spring had killed his family first, so, you supposed it had become an even playing field.

“Love,” Rhysand’s voice comes from behind you. “Please come back, I’m sorry.”

You turn around slowly, your eyes stinging with tears that threaten to flow. “Why do I do this every time?”

He sighs, and gently laces his fingers with yours. “We don’t think rationally when we’re arguing, Darling. It’s okay,” He pulls you closer and you feel yourself relax.

“Besides,” he continues. “I think you should go visit your brother— as much as I hate the thought of it.”

You pull back and look up at him. “Surely, he can’t have grown to be that terrible, Rhysand, he was a good brother when I left.” You think back to before you’d left but it’s so long ago it feels a bit blurry and out-of-reach. “Maybe inattentive but certainly not mean.”

Rhysand looks into your eyes, there’s an emotion loaded in his that you don’t take the time to decipher it because you aren’t sure you want to know. “My personal feelings skew how I see him, Darling, you have to see for yourself.” He pushes a stand of hair out of your face, and gently kisses your forehead. “Maybe it will be different with his own sister.”

You rest your forehead on his chest and he wraps his arms around your waist.

“Can we go back inside now?” You ask quietly. “My feet are freezing.”

Rhysand just chuckles and disconnects from you, save for taking one of your hands and leading you back towards the townhouse. “My love, next time you threaten to run away, please wear a coat and proper shoes.” He says playfully, flashes you a teasing smile.

You mock-glare at him, but can’t stop the smile that spreads on your face. “No, actually, I think I’d quite like to freeze to death before I ever make it out of Night.”

“Of course you would.”

…..

“How far you make it this time?” Cassian smiles when you and Rhysand walk in the door, Azriel is already building a fire and Mor is smiling brightly in a chair in front of the budding flame. Amren is sitting in one of the other chairs grumbling about the lack of good blood to drink or something— you loved her but she’d always confused you.

“Didn’t make it down the block.” Rhysand says back to Cassian, before he sits you down in front of the fire to warm up.

You shrug him off, not needing him to baby you. “Knock it off, Cassian.” You say roughly, not actually mad but feeling even colder now that you’re in a warm space. You turn your head back to Rhysand, who's already leaning on a wall across the room. “And you, Mister Automatic-Heater, come back here.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He says as Mor snickers at you. Rhysand sits down next to you and pulls you into him, using his magic to warm you up. You both know the fire never works fast enough.

You sit there for a long time, just lost in Rhysand’s presence, long enough that the others clear the room and go off to do their own things.

It’s only when everyone is finally out of earshot that Rhysand leans down, brushes his lips against the shell of your ear and whispers, “I love you, darling.”

You shiver and turn your head to face him before you place a kiss on his cheek and whisper back, “I love you more.”

“Impossible.” He shakes his head, pulling your face upwards, with two fingers under your jaw and his thumb under your chin.

You reach a hand over his and brush his hair out of his face, before you push his arm down and settle your hand on his cheek.

Then, you press your lips to his.

…..

“Okay,” Rhysand sighs, you know he’s nervous about leaving you here. “I probably shouldn’t enter Spring, so I’ll wait here. Use the bond if you need me, please.”

You place a hand on his cheek, and get closer to him. “Rhysand, I promise you, I’ll be okay.” You swipe your thumb soothingly on his cheeks. “I have to do this.”

He nods, placing his own hand over yours, while nuzzling into your hand. “I know, my love, you can absolutely handle yourself.” He pulls back, and gives you a reassuring smile. “Alright, go.”

You nod your head once and walk over the border to Spring; before you take another step, you turn back. “I love you, Rhysand.” You say, assuredly. The words have more weight to them than normal, like you’re trying to convince both yourself and Rhysand that everything is going be alright.

Luckily, the Manor rests right on one of the edges of spring, so it’s easy to find after all this time.

After a few minutes, you reach the front gates. A guard tilts his spear into your path so you have to stop.

“What is your business here?” He says gruffly.

You straighten your back and try to find the most regal parts of yourself. “I am Y/N of spring court, High Lord, Tamlin’s sister.” You're sure you said it so demandingly that he’d just let you in but the guard just looks you up and down.

“Spring Court High Fae… In Night Court Clothes?” He shakes his head. “Plus our Y/N died several Centuries ago.”

You sigh. “I don’t need to convince you, I just need to speak to Tamlin. Please.”

The guard stamps his spear, as if to tell you to go away.

So, you pull out your last playing card. “Okay, Fine. As the High Lady of the Night Court, I demand a meeting with your High Lord.” You pause. “Unless you’d like to directly deny both myself and my High Lord?”

This sends the guard into a tizzy. He opens the gate and leads you inside. He abandons you there though, and leaves you with a red-haired man.

“Who are you?” You ask.

He raises an eyebrow. “I am Lucien. Who are you, and how did you convince the guard to let you in?”

You straighten up once again. “I am Tamlin’s sister, Y/n.”

He looks you up and down and gives you a ‘you’re joking, right?’ Look. “You’re in Night Court clothes.”

You throw your arms in the air and let them fall back down. “Yes, thank you for stating the obvious. Obviously, I believed all my family to be dead and sought a home elsewhere.”

“In the Night Court. The home of the people who killed your family.” His voice is flat.

“I ended up there, but it is not where I originally went. My personal guard, Claude, took me to the human world to keep me safe from the previous High Lord of the Night Court. He was hunted down for being Fae.” You stop, feeling the annoyance bubbling under your skin; still, Lucien looks as though you’ve just spun an elaborate story. “Just let me see Tamlin, he will recognize me.”

Lucien doesn’t move.

You continue. “Do not make me use my status again please.”

This catches his attention. “What status? because if you really are from Spring Court, you certainly don’t have any.”

Rolling your eyes, you pull out the ‘High Lady’ card, once again. “If you must know, and I’d much prefer you leave me to tell this to Tamlin, but I am the High Lady of the Night Court, and that is how I got inside.” You stare at him for a moment. “Can I see my brother now, or must I find him myself?”

Lucien practically scoffs at this point. “Now I really don’t believe you. It’s unbelievable enough that Tamlin’s sister would live in Night Court but, High Lady? That is not even a real title.”

You are really starting to get annoyed. “Okay, well, first, I didn’t even know that Night Court was the one to kill my family until I’d already met Rhysand, and second, we’re mates! I don’t really get to choose that, do I?”

You’re about to say something else but you stop. “Why in the world am I arguing with you. I don’t even know you. Where is Tamlin?”

“I’m right here.” A new voice enters the conversation; it’s deep but familiar, and there’s a new edge to it that makes your skin crawl.

When you turn to face him, he stops in his tracks. His eyes widen a fraction, and his lips purse.

“Y/n?” He says, taking a tentative step towards you. “Is that you?”

You sigh in relief. “Yes, it is. Although I’ve had a hard time convincing everyone else of that.” You close the gap between yourself and your brother and hug him.

“I thought you were dead.” He says quietly. “We never found your body. I assumed the awful Night Court took your body just as our father took their wings.”

You freeze at the mention of the wings. They are Rhysand’s Mother’s and Sister’s wings. Then Tamlin seems to notice my attire. The air turns cold, a power you thought only Rhysand and maybe the Winter Court possessed.

“Why are you wearing Night Court clothes?” He says, tugging on your sleeve. You pull away from him, just a few paces.

“When I escaped,” you start, feeling inexplicably nervous as Tamlin stares down at you. “Claude took me to the human world. I lived there for at least a century before my human family died and I came back here.” You stop, gauging his reaction. “Then, I assumed everyone else had died that night and couldn’t bear to come back to spring, So…. I just walked, and walked, and— you get the point.

“Eventually I ended up in the Night Court and I lived in a cave for a long time before Rhysand found me and—”

Tamlin cuts you off. “Rhysand? Why do you talk about him with so much familiarity?” His teeth grind and he looks positively fuming. “You do know that he’s the reason our family is dead, right?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“You would betray our family like this and become part of the Court who caused our demise?”

“No, Tamlin—”

He turns his face away from you, his fists clenched. “No sister of mine would behave this way.”

Your mouth drops open, but you snap it shut. “Tamlin, when I met Rhysand, I didn’t know who killed our family.” You explain calmly. “I was just a starving woman, living in a Night Court cave.”

He glares down at you, an air of superiority hanging around his head. “And how did you learn that it was Night Court? Who killed them?”

You take a deep breath. “He told me. Honestly, truthfully, he simply told me.” You stretch your shoulders nervously, and prepare to tell him that thing that you suppose will anger him most.

It's a reasonable reaction, you think; after all, if you’d been in his place, you’d be plenty angry that your sister was conversing with people who killed your entire family.

Before you can get out though, Tamlin speaks again. “You will come live in Spring with me.” It’s not a question, he is telling you what you must do.

Your eyes soften. “I cannot do that.”

“You can and you will.” Tamlin says with a finality in his voice.

You give him a pointed look now and reiterate, “No, I cannot and I will not.” A tug on the bond pulls your attention away briefly, and you realize how sick with worry Rhysand must be. You tug back to reassure him. “Tamlin, I live in the Night Court, that is my home.”

You know sugar coating your situation will not help, but based on his reactions, it’s becoming hard to get out.

“This will be your home again.” He says it so plainly, and though he tries to leave no room for argument, you know that you must argue.

“I’m the High Lady of the Night Court, Tamlin. This cannot ever be my home again.” You say sternly.

He falls quiet and unmoving for just a moment before he explodes.

“Not only have you been cohorting with our enemies, but you have married the worst one of them all?” He roars, you haven’t heard someone yell at you so thoroughly for a very long time. Even when you argue, Rhysand never yells.

“Rhysand is not a bad man, Tamlin, no matter what you may think!” You snap back.

It takes you a moment to register what happens next, but, before you can, you're on the floor and your cheek has a harsh sting.

When you compose yourself and realize what happens, you whisper. “Rhysand was right about you.”

His face goes red once more but he just releases a strained breath and spits, “High Lady’s do not exist, no matter what he tells you, dear sister.” Then with the meanest sneer you’ve ever seen in your life, he says, “Do not come crawling back to me when your life falls into shambles.”

You rise to your feet, dust off your pants, and try to retain your composure. “You are not the brother I remember, Tamlin.” Then, you turn and begin walking to the door. “In fact, I am not sure you are that brother at all.”

The manor’s door shut behind you and you tredge back to Spring’s edge where you know Rhysand’s comforting arms will be waiting.

You see him before he sees you, but his jaw clenches as soon as he does.

“What did he do to you.” He says it so flatly it doesn’t sound like a question; he closes the distance between you two and runs his thumb over what you assume is a mark on your face.

You try to make light of the situation to hold back the tears that are gathering in your eyes. “Things got a bit physical.” You amend, “on his end, at least.”

Rhysand does not appreciate the joke. “I should’ve gone with you, he never would have tried anything in front of me.”

You shrug. “I suppose that shows the kind of man he is.”

Rhysand turns your cheeks to get a better look at the mark. “No, Darling, I think this does.”

He lets his hand fall from your face, and so you wrap your arms around his waist, burying your stinging face in his chest. “You were right, Rhys. I should have listened to you.”

You can feel him shake his head. “No, you needed to see for yourself; I should’ve been there to prevent the worst of it.”

You pull away from him and look back towards the Manor. You spot Tamlin watching the two of you from a balcony, but you are far enough away, you can’t make out his expression.

Rhysand stares back, a silent promise for retribution, one way or another.

“Can we please just go home?” You tug on Rhysand’s sleeve. “I want to rid my mind of this interaction.”

He looks back down at you and smiles tenderly. “Of course, my love.”

…..

You had fallen down into your shared bed with Rhysand and let the tears silently fall while Rhysand goes off to do whatever it is he needs to do.

You had told him you wanted a minute alone; after probably only ten minutes you had drifted off to sleep.

Now, you’re being shaken awake by Mor.

“Y/n, wake up.” She sounds panicked so you shoot up.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” You say, as your heart pounds, every fear you’ve ever had races through your mind.

She looks deep into your eyes. “We can’t leave Velaris,” her expression reflects sorrow. “And Rhysand is gone.”

All content belongs to @beingsuneone , do not repost, copy or post on other platforms without my permission.

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fandom-pantheon · 6 months ago

Text

Oh, this will be a rant. Bear with me, or ignore me. You can either argue or agree… However, if you want to read, it will be a freaking essay. Just a warning.

1. MATES! Or better yet, the whole thing about mates being rare and the SJM being like: “You get a mate, and you get a mate, and you get aaaaaaa MATE, etc”, makes perfect sense. Like in ACOTAR you have a world divided in half. Literally half the population is separated by a freaking wall. If Feyre didn’t cross the wall, and eventually became Fae, Rhysand would never found his mate. Nor would Cassian or Lucien. Rhysand father was over 900, when he found his mother. Do you have any idea how many times he could have died??? In ToG, you don’t have winnowing, or teleportation. Traveling the world for weeks on end? Months? Years? Which human will do that? How many of them? And if Aelin and Rowan didn’t find each other, neither would Lorcan and Elide. For example. And in CC? Their powers were corrupted, and with that their senses as well. So yeah. MATES ARE RARE!!!!

2. The whole critique of HOFAS. I get it if you don’t like it. That’s perfectly fine. However, there is no reason attacking some of the well established characters like Nesta and Azriel. First thing first. Nesta, and the whole story how SJM just ruined the ending of ACOSF, cause Nesta was all healed and whatnot. Depression is a serious illness, that is far from easy to beat. And even if you “beat it”, it does not end overnight. Yes, she had an amazing story of overcoming all that was there, but still, it did not disappear. And it probably never will. There can be days, weeks and months that it can take hold of you. That is perfectly normal, and fine, and Nesta falling again, does not mean she is back there. She has her family, her friends and her mate to help pick her up, and having a bad day or two, or a week is NORMAL. Even for people who do not suffer from depression, let alone the one who does. So don’t attack with the whole “ruined the journey of Nesta”, cause it ain’t true. We do not know what is happening in Pyrithian yeat, so chill.

3. I’ll make it a new point. AZRIEL!!! My baby. If SJM stays true to her words, my little kinky baby! 😜 Why the freaking f*ck, is it weird to have Az there instead of Cass? Like yeah, Nesta and Cass are mates, but that does not mean they are joined by umbilical cord for f*ck sake! Az is a spymaster, and it makes perfect sense for him to be trailing them. Being found out however, by accident or on purpose is questionable, but it makes so much more sense for him to be there and get as much info about this new person from different world. If there was a battle, full on war, yeah, I would expect Cass, freaking GENERAL of Night Court ARMIES, there, but for this mission?? People, have you heard of common sense?? Just cause you want to see more of Cass and Nesta, does not make it a good idea for running a court as High Lord. Deal!

4. Az and Nesta friendship? Amazing. The way he calmed her down, with mentions of Cass and Nyx. Amazing! And it is established in ACOSF that there was friendship between the two, so why the fuck are ppl freaking out? Is it because of the fantasy of threesome?? Excuse you!!! Get your mind out of the fucking gutter prudes! Just because Cass was the main love interest and turned out to be her mate, does not mean she cannot enjoy her own imagination. For fuck sake, woman keeps reading smutty books, of course she has a dirty mind. And at least 1/4 of those books have 3somes in it, if not the whole reverse harem!!!! What women (in her sexual prime, like she’s 25 or something) would not enjoy 2 hunks worshipping her??? If you wouldn’t, well… keep lying to yourself. The rest of us know the truth.

5. AZ DESERVES A MATE! Now repeat after me! AZ DESERVES A MATE! No, not Elain. Gods not that bitch. And she will turn out to be a bitch I’m 99.99% sure of it. As Rhysand mentioned, even roses have thorns. And we still have to see what she has to show. I’m sure it’s foreshadowing. Nobody is that nice. Or better said, nobody is that nice for a long time. I’m not even sold on the idea of Lucien and Elain, let alone Az and her. Be it Gwyn, Eris, Helion or Mother herself, Az deserves a mate! A mate who will love him! All of him, good and bad, and icy. And no, not the one that will “melt his ice” but the one who will embrace it. Cause it won’t be Az anymore. I didn’t see Nesta taming Cassians wild side, but going along with it, enjoying it. So why would Az mate “melt his ice”??? The mate his shadows will feel comfortable with. Where he can go through his day and find shadows missing, finding them with him/her/them. Doesn’t matter. He needs his own journey, full of trials and errors, and full on f*ck ups, for his happy ending. I believe it will be Gwyn. But it can be anyone but Elain. She will never love him fully. She will always, even when she refuses Lucien, feel the mating bond, and I cannot explain how badly I don’t want that to happen to Az. Cause HE will wake up every morning thinking: “ Is this the day she leaves me for her mate?”. And seeing his brothers happiness with their mates, he will ask this. And he deserves so much better!

6. RHYSAND! Just that! FREAKING RHYSAND! Why the f*ck are ppl freaking out about his behavior in ACOSF and HOFAS??? Let’s start from the beginning. RHYSAND is a well established character. And he is the same from start to now. He is a manipulative, scheming bastard, secretly trying to do good things, by whichever means necessary! Good or bad. For f*ck sake, he was Amarathas 2nd in command and her whore for 50 years… Like, yeah, he is good, and he is a feminist, and he is all of this and that, but he is still just… him! That won’t change, and I don’t want it to change, cause I really like his character as it is. (You have every right to hate him, but not on the account of him “changing”) Him threatening Nesta when she revealed the risk of pregnancy! YES, YES, and YES! He had every right to do so, and him telling Cass to get her out of there, was more than I would have done. (And no, I am not talking about the moral dilemma of him not telling Feyre in the first place, cause that was bad, however, what would you do? We can discuss morality all day long, and everybody would take the high road until it’s time, sooooo… Don’t!) Oh, and him reprimanding Nesta in the extra in HOFAS. Again spot on. Because, if Az or Cass have done something sooooooo stupid, he would have beaten them in the training ring to the inch of their life. Mor would probably take the full burn of his power. And Amren… Well let’s not go there. Most of the ppl started talking shit about Rhys and his behavior in HOFAS, however I was pissed, and I’m still pissed at Feyre.

7. Feyre!!! Oh my Gods!!! I’m starting to hate her. I liked her so much. Strong FMC, overcoming her obstacles, trying to do good for her family and friends and mate. But HOFAS! So mad!!!!! YOU ARE A F*CKING HIGH LADY! Your damn sister just gave one of the deadliest weapons to basically complete stranger, who btw, came to your house and wrecked PRISON of all places… In Midgard Avallen island changed completely. What the f*ck happened to the prison when she took part of the star??? She f*cking freed the Asteri/Dalgan in you house, and you sister was like: “Yeah, sure, take the mask, please don’t die or fall prey to the Asteri”. And you give shit to your MATE and a f*cking HIGH LORD of the court for reprimanding you damn sister??? Like f*ck off bi*ch. I’m all for feminism and females supporting each other, but this is politics! This is a leader talking to his subject, not a f*cking family show on air. Honestly, it’s starting to look like Feyre is abusing Rhys, and using his feelings for her and their mate bond to do things the way she wants them to be done. And I hate that it looks that way.

8. This is the last one for now. Az and Rhys interaction in extra in ACOSF. AGAIN, ppl say it with me… RHYSAND IS A HIGH LORD OF THE NIGHT COURT!!! So yes, they are friends and all of that, but at the end of the day, Rhys is the leader, and he knows his shit. And he has every right to say that shit to Az. However, I do think it is misleading. We will see if I’m right, but. If Gwyn is Az mate, I believe she knows. And I believe Rhys knows as well. I really think they are friends. (Especially over the things that happened to them, and knowing who their mates are, but not telling them, since they weren’t/aren’t ready. The whole scene of Rhysand telling Nesta to be respectful to Gwyn kinda gives me that vibe). So him telling Az “he will make him regret it”, kinda comes from that. However, I get a feeling (again might be wrong, time and SJM will tell), that making Az regret his action will involve his mother. We had mentions of her, sooooo. (I have this reoccurring thought, about a random attack, that Az takes care of, on one of his spying missions, and the enemy mentions that they will take his mate or something like that. Az coming back to Velaris, and freaking out about Elain being in danger, and everybody freaking out as well. Until Rhys asks to look at what happened, and realizes that the enemy was not saying Elain, but his mate, and runs of in search of Gwyn, who’s been attacked or kidnapped… Yeah, just there sitting in my head. Does not want to leave.)

Anyway, that’s it for now. There are much more points I would like to make, but I’ll leave it for some other time.

It took way longer than anticipated to write this. And I’m sorry for any grammatical error or misspelling. English is my second language.

If you stuck till the end, thank you, and let me know what your thoughts are??? I would appreciate discussion over open war, but go ahead and do what you like….

Love,

Lady Tina

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littlest-w01f · 9 months ago

Text

Chapter Four

Series Masterlist

Cw: Mentions of blood and torture

Rheana sat in a room filled with clothes, dresses and tunics, some fully done, some half made while some were just drawings on parchment of papers. She sat in this place whenever she wanted peace and silence, the room in the House of Winds where her mother had made their clothes when she was alive.

While she and Rhysand had been going through their parents' things, she had found this room and had wanted to keep it as it was. Rheana, a female who wasn't quite into the art of dressmaking but in a way of carrying her mother with her, she had chosen to get into it.

Taking over her mother's work made her feel close to her even in death, being in that very room made her feel as if her mother was looking down at what she was looking over her shoulder and commenting on how well she had learned to draw, how she could improve the design of the skirts of the dresses. What magic she had put in the room made Rheana think that a part of her mother was still living on, and she would carry it for as long as she could, stay in this room for as long as she could

There had been many incomplete drawings that her mother had done before she passed, which she had decided to try to complete. Rheana had taken over her seamstress work even if she never sold them, she only made clothes for their inner Circle.

Rheana held a drawing of some Illyrian fighting gear, something she had added to the collection of clothes her mother made. A collection that had several grand dresses and tunics, even some shirts and pants to them.

Some clothes were always kept in the room, washed, steamed and pressed to perfect to be preserved, She sat in the chair in front of some drawings scattered on the table. She looked at the intricate handmade dresses that hung in a charmed dresser, she wondered if Feyre would fit in those dresses and coats. If her mother's magic would acknowledge her as Rhysand's mate. If the dresses would find a permanent owner.

She smiled softly, her brother's mate. Rhysand had found his mate. Rheana's eyes then went to another dresser, a pair of fancy tunics, cloaks and coats that her mother had made for her mate. Her mate. Rheana gave the same bittersweet smile she had on her lips every time she opened that dresser and felt the fabric of those clothes.

Her hand trailed over the sleeves of a tunic, the fabric soft in her hands. A mate. Someone who was made to fit with her perfectly, her equal.

She looked up to the sunrise through the window and simply hoped, hoped that she would come across her mate.

It had been a week since Feyre had gotten to the Night Court, Rhysand had decided to spend the week he had with Feyre in his court away from the house where she stayed. Rheana was sure she had been in that place more times than Rhysand, even if she was in the shadows and didn't interact with Feyre.

They spend their time in the House of Winds, war planning with their inner circle, in a room of the House there was a giant map of their world, Hybern was enemy territory, and Prythian was divided after Amarantha. Something they were sure of was a trial of how long Hybern could have their courts under their control.

Rheana and Azriel were in charge of catching the Illyrians who had sided with Amarantha for their selfish reason to expand their already large territories in the mountains, Cassian sometimes joined their hunting when he wished to distract himself with Devlon and his unhelpful nature, especially regarding the three of them.

Rheana flared her winds as she stared down Velaris from the House before Azriel joined her, a few cold shadows of his stroking her cheeks and neck, some on her waist, the darkness holding her like her lover, she'd felt the shadows before she knew Azriel had snuck up next to her, and the two shared a look before diving to fly, his shadows returning to sit on his shoulders. Azriel had gotten intel from his spies where some Illyrian males were hiding. Hiding because they knew they had tried to hurt the members of their court. Hiding because they were simply waiting to be caught. They knew they would be.

Rheana flew, her wings flapping to carry her in the wind, she flew slightly faster than Azriel. She was sure she had bigger wings than him but she would never say it to his face. Azriel kept up with her well, flying just beside her. They were soon out of Velaris, diving around the mountains, their eyes scanning the peaks, narrowing to see movement in a cave of the mountains.

She had had a conversation with Rhysand about this with Mor when Feyre thought she had snuck up on them, while they had heard her steps loud and clear. She shuddered at the thought of how many priestesses the destruction of the temple in Cesere had lost their lives, she was upset with herself, they had been too late if it was Hybern who had attacked, which they were sure it was given that the trove that had gone missing.

Mor was still in charge of the Court of Nightmares while Rhysand had too much on his plate, with him discovering how strong Feyre might end up being with proper training, and his own healing. He had told her about how all seven High Lords had come together to give her a piece of their power to bring the human back as High Fae.

Rhysand had not been able to hide from her how worried he was over his mate, it took a day or two before he had made her the drink of her choice, a drink that looked like a galaxy of stars in a fancy wineglass, the scent of vodka and tequila in the air from the drink. It was something she'd drank while at Rita's. Then Rhysand had opened up about how much he hated how thin she had gotten, how he hated that Tamlin had done nothing to help her in any way, not with her literacy or her night terrors. Rhysand used making her drinks as an excuse to line all his thoughts up and get some alcohol in her system before he shared every thought that had been bothering him.

"She's tinner than it should be healthy, she's not happy, she's not healthy, and that damn Ianthe is controlling her so much that she's not herself." Rhysand had paced around in front of her in the middle of the townhouse, his body quite literally shaking in anger. "And don't even get me started on Tamlin."

"You can't control her Rhys, not when so many people are already trying to." She sighed, setting her drink down on a table near her, "Besides, all you can do is let her know she can trust you. And with how you tell me she's been treated, she'll now that she's be safer here than the court she considers home. If you push her too much, you might end up pushing her away."

She had comforted him, and he had told her he was helping her learn to read and write, and she had smacked his shoulder at the sentences he was making her write. But that had soon turned into her going into a fit of laughter.

"Well, I do suppose if you saw something long enough of becomes the truth." She had teased her brother, making him roll his eyes and flip her off before leaving her.

While she and Azriel were out hunting, Rhsyand had winnowed to Spring Court to return Feyre. After a week she was certainly a little better. They had decided to share as minimum information with her, despite Rheana's hatred for Tamlin, they needed his forces on their side, and they needed Feyre to convince him to join them with as little chance of an inter-court war.

Rheana slammed down in front of a cave on a large mountain, she could scent the Illyrian males that were inside it, a coat of fear on them, with the scent of chilled mist, a little cider, Azriel following behind them. She knew Azriel was playing a game when he had wanted them to split up, she knew he knew exactly where they were. There was a sadistic part of him that liked the fear that came from the people he was after when they couldn't see him, but feel him. Just like she knew he was with them inside.

She waited for an Illyrian to show up, getting in a stance to cage them between her and Azriel. With each step they got closer, panicked feet pressing against the soil. Rheana raised her hands, ready to summon her sword, then in an instant a few males were in front of her, sweat on their foreheads. She brought out her sword a whisp of wind blowing by as a blade made of glass was in her hands, vibrating with a dark power.

Seraphim. Firey. With a swing of her sword, the males were frozen standing from the sudden heat that was released from her sword. "Why, hello. We would like to talk." A smirk appeared on her lips.

Rheana had finally managed to get the blood off her from a visit to Azriel's little dungeon in a cave in the mountain the House of Winds was built on. She had just gotten out of her bath, stepping out of the giant tub after cleaning the blood and grime on her. The place now smelled like a chilly night.

She had successfully rubbed the dirt and torture she had caused and watched Azriel do off her body, the Illyrian males they had caught were now nothing more than pieces of limbs she had chopped up. They had gotten to know where the last of the Illyrians who had wanted to hurt someone Under the Mountain and taken Amarantha's orders to torture people of her. Something Rheana had forced out of Rhysand in the past months that he had done out of pressure.

The two siblings had talked and opened up about how they had hurt in the fifty years they had been away from each other like it was just a casual conversation. They had sat together in the library of the House of Winds and Rhysand had chosen to talk to the priestesses about it, Clotho had seen something in his eyes that Rheana would've never even guessed was there the first time he had showed up there. In those months, if she had wanted to find Rhysand, she knew exactly where to look.

She paused a little to look at herself in the mirror, an almost routine to see the scars on her body, the little scars littered all over her body, from afar, not many of them would be visible, but to her, she knew every one of them. And everyone who had put a permanent scar on her had not lived long after that. There was one gash going over her abs, as faint as it was, a few tiny cuts on her thighs and chest.

She didn't turn to see her back, she simply summoned her Illyrian wings, trying to relax. You are ok. She reminded herself, her wings wrapped around her body.

She stared into her eyes in her mirror, and she was brought back to herself at the feeling of black fur by her legs. Her pet. something made purely of fluff.

"Hello, Kallos." She chuckled at the bunny-like creature trying to climb her leg, their furs so dark they were swallowing light, gripping the back of her leg, the claws they had digging into her calf muscles. She looked up, back at herself but now with a smile on her face. Kallos, was a creature with their own power, something that Rheana was one to bring life to.

She snapped her fingers and changed into some comfortable silks to sleep in, "I missed you, Kal." She picked them up and smiled, carrying them both out of the bathroom. She sat the little bunny on her lap to stroke their fur, she began talking to them, Kallos giving little nudges and twitches in replies.

"...and so Feyre, Rhysie's mate, hit him with a shoe..." She snorted softly, "You should have been there when I told Cass and Az, they died laughing."

She summoned some food for Kallos, feeding them some vegetables and their liquids. After they had finished their food, with a wave of her hand, Kallos turned from a bunny to a dragon, a smaller form of a full-grown dragon while still being one, their dark eyes were now a little clearer to see when they were not covered with fur.

Kallos, now a dragon rubbed their back against her stomach, sighs of content leaving their snout as Rheana scratched their head. "Would you like some meat now, Kallie?" She cooed softly.

Even if Kallos could get their food themself, go out hunting or bother the other members of the inner circle, Rheana tried to find time to give them food herself. Rheana then summoned some slabs of raw Illyrian meat that Kallos devoured the second they appeared in the air. She smiled watching their wings flutter to make them fly to get the meat as she summoned the pieces higher and higher to make Kallos fly as she sat near her window of the House of Winds, her legs tucked close to her chest.

Kallos joined her in her seat after, their head nuzzling into her cheeks making her cringe slightly from the scent of raw meat. "Come now... Clean yourself after you've eaten." She tuts, but smiled when Kallos poked their tongue out at her, a spark making their entire body freshly clean.

"See! You don't even need to even take a proper bath." She pet Kallos' head, "My beauty," She mused as they rested their head on her lap.

She rested her head back against the window, looking at the twinkling stars. The stars glowed brighter in the acknowledgement of the starlight in her eyes.

"Good Night, Kallos. Sleep well." She sighed, summoning a blanket for the dragon in her lap as they began to fall asleep.

{Taglist: @anuttellaa @nox-ceur @tuggboatfishin}

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anarchiii · 8 months ago

Text

𖤓 A COURT OF THORNS AND ROSES MASTERLIST 𖤓

One shots:

- ❥ indicates personal favourite*

- ✧ indicates angsty themes*

- ✿ indicates fluffy themes*

Azriel

It’s not what it looks like. —Canon AU ✧

Summary: Azriel & y/n used to be best friends until she finds him kissing someone. He tries to explain but she doesn’t listen, she moves away to the dawn court to pursue her dream, five years later and she’s back in the night court. Azriel won’t let her get away from him again, he needs to explain to her that he loves her and no one else.

Haunted house Modern AU ✿

Summary; who’s idea was it to go to a haunted house? That never ends well. Thank the Gods it’s not a horror movie, or they’d be dead.

The one that got away —Canon AU ✧

Summary: Y/N is Azriel’s best friend and a Valkyrie in training, she bears affection for Azriel, but the one she loves adores Elain Archeron, a far better match. . .

I’ll wait for you —Canon AU ✧

Summary: it didn’t matter if it was summer or winter Solstice, Azriel spent it with you—even if you weren’t with him.

Baby, I’m yours —Canon AU ✧

Summary: UTM was hard for everyone, but especially for Azriel and Y/N. Mainly Y/N.

Butterflies—Canon AU ✿

Summary: while Azriel is visiting Day court, he finds himself staring at the most beautiful female he has ever seen.

Rhysand

The cooking class —Canon AU ✿

Summary: Feyre makes Rhys go to a couples cooking class with her, it turns out, both Feyre and Rhys aren’t very good at cooking. Especially Rhys.

River —Canon AU ✿

Summary: A warm summer day is rare in the city of Velaris, it would be stupid not to enjoy it while it’s still shining.

Cassian

Daddy Cassian —Canon AU ✿

Summary: Nesta’s having a girls night at Rita’s so Cassian is in charge of taking care of their first born Jenn.

Continuing fics:

Azriel

The shadowsinger chronicles —Canon AU ✿

Summary: a combination of little stories about Azriel Shadowsinger and his wife, Gwyneth Berdara.

The Shadowsinger’s lover —Canon AU ✧ ✿

Summary: Rhys’ sister comes home, finally, and the the new members of the inner circle are surprised to learn that she (we are gonna call her ‘Selene’) and Azriel are Mates and have been for over two hundred years.

Lighten up all those shadows —Modern AU ✧ ✿

Summary; All her roommates had always been lazy and rude, that was, until she met Azriel, fell for him.

Rhysand

None yet ):

Cassain

None yet ):

Crossovers:

❥ Worlds apart —Canon AU ✧ ✿

Summary: Pain and suffering one after the other, Azriel decides that maybe he’s not meant for this world, but maybe he is meant for another…

Twin Flames —Canon AU ✧ ✿

Summary: Y/N had been born from a great darkness, and yet her soul burned brighter than any Firewielder. She didn’t care for someone who would try smother those flames, she wanted someone that would set them alight. . .

*All characters—excluding Y/N—belong respectively to @sjmaas.

Last updated 9th, September, 2024.

*Dividers by @cafekitsune

#fantasy #sjm universe #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #books #sarah j maas #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x gwyn #rhys x feyre #rhys acotar #feyre acotar #masterlist #sjmaas #cassian #nesta x cassian #nesta acotar #morrigan #amren acotar #elain acotar

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songofthesibyl · 6 months ago

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More thoughts on Tamlin as a High Lord

I recently saw an interview with David Mitchell about British kings, particularly of the Middle Ages. Early on, he says point blank:

“They were all right bastards, basically, in terms of—the standard of conduct is woefully below what we’d expect.”

When asked what makes a good king or queen, he says:

“All of the things we expect from government today, you’ve just got to ignore that. They’re not trying for any of it, they’re not trying for peace—on the contrary, they’re waging war. In terms of education and healthcare, they’re just—they’re not interested, forget about it. Um, so all you can expect is stability. That’s—the good kings provide stability. The bad kings don’t. And the stability comes from being predictable in your actions, and firm, and not having favorites. And I think that’s why the people, you know I’m—you know Henry the First was particularly good at that. He’s even-handed, he didn’t have a clique. The worst kings, the ones that caused the most trouble—Richard the Second, Edward the Second, Henry the Sixth—have favorites.”

(Is the Inner Circle a clique? Who knows.)

But this brings up a sense of confusion I get about what makes a good leader in Prythian. Lucien and Tamlin both describe how brutal Prythian is in the first book; Lucien emphasizes this again in the next two books—that High Lords are a different “breed.” We see what Rhysand is capable of—we know what the fathers are and were capable of. This is a very regressive, patriarchal, toxic society overall. Are the Courts not featured as much—Dawn, Winter, Day, and Summer—any better? From what we see of Summer, there is a class divide, Cresseida mentions their obligation to return Feyre to Tamlin. Kallias doesn’t seem that enthused about Viviane being High Lady, nor has he apparently mentioned it before. Rhysand is supposed to have basically invented feminism. No women thought to change things before, or had any support in doing so—from anyone, including the magic of the land—before Feyre became High Lady. Because this is the kind of society described in the quotes above. It is a Game of Thrones-esque, medievalist world, and women thrive only on an individual level because of partners or family members like Rhysand. Who have the wherewithal to make said changes and protect the women they make them for (in Feyre’s case, anyway).

But then all of a sudden Tamlin is, alone, an absolute monarch. He alone is a tyrant, though an absolute monarchy is inherently a tyrannical form of government. He alone adheres to tradition, he alone is “conservative,” whatever that means in this world. He alone refuses the existence of High Ladies, he alone hoards wealth. His government is regressive, and patriarchal, and toxic—not Prythian’s as a whole. He stands apart in a bad way. What he does, according to SJM, is bad even for Prythian.

And I think this has to be referring to his personal sins against Feyre of course, his mistreatment of her. But as a leader—it has to be his general instability. He is out of control, unpredictable. Before, according to Rhysand, he wasn’t enough of a bastard, he was too stubbornly Stark-like in his morals (even if he resembles Theon more in the timespan of the novels).

Now, he isn’t upholding the contract—his role had become defined by being a provider and protector of his Court—a traditional male role, yes. But also, the very basic role of a government. Is presenting a united front, showing strength weaknesses of Tamlin’s, or simply how leadership is seen in every world, for better or worse (mocking presidents when they cry on camera, for example). I saw an ACOTAR analysis in which Tamlin is simultaneously decried as the epitome of toxic masculinity, and mocked because the fiddle/violin is not a masculine instrument.

So Tamlin rightly has consequences for his transgressions, and it’s one of the things that makes him such an interesting character. But bad even for Prythian? A tyrant compared to the rest of the High Lords? Regressive compared to the rest of the High Lords? Unstable compared to the other High Lords?

A history:

It was a shock to everyone when Feyre was High Lady.

Rhysand felt the need to re-enact UTM in his own Court. He pulled rank with Mor regarding her father in ACOWAR. The state of Illyria and the CoN is accepted as the status quo. Its citizens can’t leave, but it’s implied most of them are monsters anyway, that Rhys has been cursed to deal with. He still has to placate them as part of his army. He does what he can for Illyria, but the culture is almost too ingrained at this point, and its citizens also part of his army.

The people of the Spring Court (at least the nobility) did not flee when Tamlin’s father risked war with the Night Court by slaughtering its High Lord’s mate and daughter. It fled when Tamlin became High Lord.

The people of Autumn presumably didn’t flee when its High Lord murdered his own son’s lover in front of him, forcing him to watch.

There is no word of a rebellion in the Summer Court after its nobility left the commoners to die in the attack on Adriata.

Every Court practiced slavery, and not all fought to end it.

Even with Tamlin—Tarquin knew about Feyre being locked up shortly after it happened; so presumably Spring would have known as well. He executed the sentries who failed to protect Feyre from Mor, in public view, with Lucien begging mercy. The mass exodus didn’t happen until Feyre returned, when the whipping, along with his violence against Feyre, finally convinced everyone to leave.

David Mitchell, on Henry the First: “What you have to do—you have to be horrible. They were all horrible, you have to be willing to kill at a moment’s notice. But if you do it with a rationale, you do it even-handedly, you don’t have favorites, and you have some notion of the stable government you want to be heading towards, then—then it can work out. And he created a very peaceful kingdom. Albeit through violence. And—and in those days, that’s sort of as good as it gets.”

Tamlin had proven to them, at that moment, that he was not to be trusted, that he had betrayed them, that he didn’t have their interests at heart. That he was not in his right mind, even. And so they abandoned him. Even if it was partly due to mind control and manipulation.

Something is fundamentally rotten with the Spring Court’s training, and yet they abandoned Tamlin when he went too far—and the CoN, the Autumn Court, remain intact.

In reading through the books, even if he doesn’t stand out in a good way as a revolutionary leader (even if he might want to be, deep down)—how does he stand out as a bad leader compared with the ones we’ve spent any time with? How is he just as bad as his father when he doesn’t support slavery? How is he bad as a leader even for Prythian? What are the standards? Other than his instability after UTM.

This is why, reading these books, I suspended disbelief and enjoyed the story, because, really, they’re all right bastards. I am not looking for crumbs, making up something that isn’t there. I get he was a bad leader from ACOMAF onward, though it wasn’t as if he fought with Hybern in the end. But I simply didn’t see how, as a High Lord, he fundamentally differed from everyone else.

People say this isn’t a Game of Thrones-esque series. It’s romantasy. So why is politics in it at all? Why are people writing essays at equal length as this with quotes from the book about what a horrible High Lord he is? Why is it relevant? And how am I expected to turn my brain off for certain parts of the story and not others? I can’t.

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starstruckunknown-princess · 2 years ago

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You Can Go Your Own Way - Black Rose Part 3

Summary: Niamh hatched a plot to keep Rhys away from her while she had time to heal. Rhys finds out. Part 3 of the Black Rose series.

Pairings: Rhysand x OC (Niamh of the Spring Court, no physical descriptions), slight Azriel x OC

Warnings: ANGST, a bit of betrayal, therapy session, slight stalking, rage rage rage

Word Count: 2965

A/N: So I totally didn’t mean to make this into a series, but I guess that’s the way it’s going. I’m thinking 2 more chapters and I’ll wrap it up, but who knows. Title comes from “Go Your Own Way” by Fleetwood Mac.

Likes/Reblogs/Comments mean the world to me and help me write faster! Thanks in advance!

Banner by me, dividers by firefly-graphics

Part 1 | Part 2

After pouring Rhys into bed for the third time in as many days, Azriel flew his usual patrol around the city before landing softly in the front yard of a small ivy-covered house on the outskirts of Velaris. He knocked on the front door three times, paused for two beats, then knocked once more.

Niamh opened the door and let him inside. The boxes he and Cassian had moved for her were mostly unpacked, stacked in haphazard piles about the room. Her hair was frizzing out of her braid that had been neat that morning. The purple circles under her eyes made their color stand out all the more. Her plush lips were pulled in a tight line.

“He bought it?” she asked quietly, closing and locking the front door.

“He did,” Azriel confirmed, tucking his hands behind his back. “Spent quite a lot of time debating over which court you’re in while he drank the townhouse dry. Are you okay?”

Niamh chuckled mirthlessly, “Not really. I’m still not convinced this is the right thing to do.” She started wringing her hands in front of her, glancing about the small living room.

Azriel wrapped her small hands in his, capturing her attention. His shadows encircled her wrists, stroking her forearms in an attempt at comforting her. “It’s just for now. You know he wouldn’t stop trying to bring you back into the fold, and that would only hurt you more. This is best until things are…settled.”

“I know,” she muttered, leaning her head into his shoulder. His shadows made room for her and she wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him fully. “I just wish I could skip ahead, you know? Skip all this pain. Get back to normal.”

Her voice was small and muffled against his leathers. Without thinking, Azriel hugged her back. Seeing her like this made his heart ache for her, but he knew she didn’t want pity. She needed a friend right now, which is why he and Mor had worked so hard talking her into staying.

They’d agreed to her terms — only one member of the Inner Circle at her new home at a time, otherwise they might draw Rhys’s attention. Her location was to remain secret until she said so. If Rhys found out before that time was up, they would let her leave Velaris without asking any questions.

But, they had countered with some demands of their own. She had to seek professional help and not wallow in her depression. If she got too unstable or unwell, they could alert Rhys but only if it was absolutely necessary. And finally, her sworn duty to Velaris would remain intact. If Velaris needed her, she would break her isolation.

Their deal had caused a new tattoo to bloom on his left obliques. A rose with dark swirls surrounding it. Mor’s was behind her ear, easily hidden under her long hair, and Niamh’s circled her wrist.

“You’ll get there, Sweetrose,” he reassured, stroking her hair with his damaged hands and delighting in the softness of it. He didn’t know which of them started it but soon they were swaying gently together, slowly rocking from one foot to the other. Like a slow dance, but more sedate.

“I have my first therapist appointment tomorrow. The office is down by the river, will you take me?” she asked, pulling back just enough to look up at him.

“Of course. What time?”

“Ten. You’ll be done with training then, right?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it work. This is important, Niamh, you’re important.”

“Thank you, Az.” She looked up at him and brushed a curl that had fallen in his face, “You’re important too.”

His heart stuttered in his chest as her fingers brushed along his cheekbone, down his jaw. The look she was giving him caused confusion. Years of working together had given them a close bond, he felt like he knew her as well as he knew Mor, perhaps even better. Still, this look of softness was new to him. He’d been on the receiving end of her caring and comfort, this was not that.

‘Fatigue,’

‘Affection,’

‘Kiss,’

His shadows whispered at him but he ignored them. What kind of male would kiss her when she was so vulnerable? When her situation was so tenuous? Her eyes held a hint of expectation, so he compromised and bent forward to rest his forehead against her own. Still they swayed together, even though there was no music playing.

Neither of them had felt this at peace in a long, long while.

One Month Later

Hypatia’s office was impeccably decorated. Tasteful columns framed the carved wooden doors, the furniture was dyed leather in the softest lavender hue, and she had a seemingly never-ending supply of tissues. Niamh wouldn’t be surprised if they magically replenished.

She leaned forward and took another one, dabbing her eyes and blowing her nose. Today’s session was intense. They’d dived much deeper than Niamh thought possible and now parts of herself she’d wondered about started to make more sense.

Mainly, the reason she didn’t want to speak to Rhys was so she wouldn’t appear vulnerable. If she wasn’t vulnerable, she couldn’t get hurt. Her avoidance, this whole charade she’d set up with Azriel and Morrigan, was to protect herself. But it was isolating, even with Mor and Az stopping by and her coffee dates with Cassian. She was alienating them from Rhysand, unintentionally, but alienating them all the same by making them lie for her.

Moving on was hard work. Her journey wasn’t over, but she was quickly approaching a fork in the road. One way led to the ruin of her friendships, one led to their salvation. Salvation required but a single step, yet it felt insurmountable all the same.

“Do you think I’m ready?” She asked, voice trembling.

Hypatia’s citrine-yellow eyes regarded her with compassion and the female tilted her head. Like her office, Hypatia was carefully styled. Her gray-white hair was swept up in a tight bun, her makeup was subtle and accentuated her gracefully aging features. The dark blue suit she wore was tailored to perfection — when Niamh had asked, Hypatia insisted she tailored all her own clothing. Niamh believed her.

“I think you’ve done some great work in this room,” she said, her low melodic voice soothing Niamh’s nerves, “and you’ve come a long way in a short amount of time.”

“I sense a ‘but’,” Niamh said, a poor attempt to lighten the mood in the room.

“But I can’t make that decision for you. If you feel you’re strong enough, you are. And you are strong, Niamh, but don’t feel the need to rush.”

Niamh considered her words. “I think it’s time. I’ve been…hiding, running away, for too long. My friends deserve better. Rhys deserves better.”

“You also deserve better.”

“Right,” Niamh sighed, not quite believing it but knowing that she could trust Hypatia’s judgment.

“Can you say that for me? I deserve better?”

Damn her.

“I deserve better,” Niamh said, looking down at her hands.

“Once more, louder,” Hypatia encouraged.

“I deserve better,” Niamh responded, a little louder.

“Last time, like you believe it!”

“I deserve better!” she half-shouted and for the briefest of moments, she believed it. She deserved better than living in fear that Rhysand would find out where she’d hidden herself away. She deserved better than only having part-time friends who needed to maintain distance so as not to spill her secret. She deserved to live her life and be happy and this unresolved tension wouldn’t allow that.

“That’s my girl!” Hypatia nodded and glanced at her wristwatch. “That’s a good place for us to pick up next time. Thank you for sharing today, Niamh.”

The two females stood and Niamh went to the door, “I’ll see you Thursday?”

“I’ll see you then,” Hypatia said, opening the door and Niamh exited through the waiting room onto the street.

A ways away, someone was playing a snappy tune on a trumpet. The day was nice, not too warm, and sunny but not too sunny. Niamh left her therapist’s office feeling lighter, like a Rhysand-sized weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She made her way down the street, footsteps in time with the music.

She was getting better.

Azriel had been oddly tongue-tied about his afternoon plans when Rhys had asked him, so he decided to follow the Shadowsinger. With his shadows and his keen senses, it wasn’t an easy task. A few times, Rhys definitely thought he was caught but if Azriel knew his High Lord was following him, he gave no indication.

The male flew his normal circuitous patrol above the city before heading toward the newer section of Velaris, which had been outskirts fifty years ago but was now full of small charming homes and new businesses.

What is he doing here? Rhys wondered. To his knowledge, Az hadn’t moved. Then again, he was the spymaster for a reason. Perhaps he had moved and just hadn’t mentioned it.

Azriel landed gracefully in front of a small stone-facade house that was mostly covered with ivy. Light shone through the thin curtains in the windows — someone was already here.

Was this the home of one of his informants? Or had Az finally given up on Morrigan and found love? Hope fluttered in Rhys’ chest for his friend as he watched him approach the front door and knocked thrice, paused for two beats, and then knocked once more.

The door opened on an all-too-familiar face. A face Rhys had only seen in memories. A face he had been told had left his Court. A face he had once loved more than anything.

Niamh’s face lit up in a smile as she welcomed Azriel. Rhys was too far away to hear what they were saying, but she was clearly happy to see Az. They exchanged pleasantries, then the door closed with both of them on the other side.

No way would she have been that happy to see him, no way she would welcome her High Lord into her home like that. Jealousy turned his blood to acid in his veins. It took the entirety of his self-control to not bust down the door and demand an explanation.

Instead, he winnowed to Amren’s street and burst into her home. The cat-eyed female was lounging on her sofa, looking entirely unbothered by his intrusion.

“Hello to you too, Rhysand,” she said, not getting up. “What’s got your hackles up?”

“Niamh,” he panted, “She’s still in the city. Azriel knows. Even though he told me he flew her to the border, she’s still here!”

Amren only nodded, “I know this.”

He gaped at his second in command. “What?”

“Azriel and Mor made the deal with her to get her to stay.”

His stomach was in his shoes. His mind was racing with questions. He needed answers, so he sent out a blaring mental message to all of his Inner Circle.

House of Wind, NOW.

“I’m sitting right here, Rhysand.” Amren droned from her seat, and he flipped her a rude gesture before winnowing to the House of Wind.

Cassian was already there, shirtless and damp with sweat. He toweled himself off as Rhys started pacing the living room.

“Everything okay? That was a pretty intense message,” Cassian asked. Rhys didn’t answer. Amren appeared and draped herself across the sofa much as she had in her home moments ago. Morrigan was the next to arrive, wearing a dress that was meant for Rita’s and her makeup half-done.

“What’s so urgent? Are you okay?” she asked, worry in her tone.

“I am absolutely not okay, Mor. Where the fuck is Azriel?” He asked no one, pacing becoming more intense. Of course, he knew exactly where Azriel was. He was with Niamh in the house he’d hidden her in, right under Rhys’s nose.

Mor and Cassian exchanged a nervous glance. The shadowsinger appeared a moment later. Tension filled the room as Rhysand caught sight of the male, halting in his tracks but not saying anything.

He could feel rage building inside him, but took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“Everyone sit,” he demanded, using his High Lord tone. Cassian and Mor joined Amren on the sofa, Azriel took a chair. Amren was the only one unaffected by the stifling atmosphere — the remaining three members of the Inner Circle were glancing between them, trying to figure out what had caused their High Lord to scream into their minds.

Rhysand moved behind the open chair and gripped the back of it. The velvet felt soft under his fingers. His anger was simmering in his chest, tensing his shoulders. Gathering his thoughts felt like a herculean task, but he managed it.

“The thing about betrayal,” he started, “is that it never comes from your enemies.”

“Betrayal? What are you talking about, Rhys?” Mor asked, trying to make eye contact with him but instead he glared at each member of his family in turn.

“You’ve all been lying to me. I know Niamh is still in Velaris.” He held up his hand to stop Mor and Cassian’s interjections, “And I want to know just what in the Mother-fucking fuck you all were thinking when you decided to lie to me.”

He lowered his hand and stuck both hands in his pants pockets. Azriel’s shadows flickered around him like the tail of a nervous cat. Mor looked between the Illyrians, then rose to her feet and approached him.

“Okay, yes, we lied to you about Niamh leaving,” she explained gently, “But we never meant to hurt you. We did it for her. She was…not well, Rhys. Not leaving her apartment, not sleeping, barely eating. She needed us, but she was dead set on leaving Velaris because she couldn’t handle your presence looming over everything. So Azriel and I talked to her, got her to agree to stay.”

Mor was too good at conciliatory explanations. His anger was nearly quashed, replaced with guilt and curiosity. He raised an eyebrow at her. Sweeping her swath of golden hair away from the left side of her neck, she turned her head, exposing her neck to him. He took a step closer and noticed a tattoo of a small rose behind her ear — the symbol of her agreement with Niamh.

“You had to make a deal with her?” he asked, imagining where Niamh’s tattoo appeared.

“Yes, we did. Only Mor and I, though, so Cass and Amren could have plausible deniability.” Azriel explained.

Rhys looked at Cassian and Amren, “Plausible deniability?”

“I only knew she was still here, not where,” Amren answered with a shrug.

Cassian held his palms up toward the ceiling, “I only met her in public.”

“So you were protecting her? From me?”

“Only until she gets better. Once she feels she’s ready, she’ll move back to her apartment and return to the Inner Circle.” A low tone from Azriel, like the growl of a panther.

“Do you really expect me to give her space now that I know she’s still here?”

“Yes,” Azriel snapped immediately, the growl becoming a snarl, “You will stay. Away. From her.”

Rhys stalked toward where Azriel still sat, slow steps to make sure the spymaster understood the danger in provoking him. His eyes locked onto Azriel’s hazel ones. First one to blink loses, becomes the prey. “Are you going to make me?”

“I will if I have to,” Azriel’s tone was dangerously protective. His scarred hands clenched into the arms of the chair he sat in, holding himself back.

Mor moved between them, intercepting Rhys before he got much closer to Azriel. “One of her conditions was if you found out, we would have to let her leave. No questions asked, she could just disappear and we’d never see her again. You don’t want that, right?”

Rhysand broke his eye contact with Az, instead taking in his cousin’s beseeching look. Her hand on his chest, above his heart, provided the first grounding sensation he’d felt since he followed Azriel to Niamh’s home.

She was right, of course. He knew that if he showed up at Niamh’s door now he would lose her forever. Flushing her out would only serve to put more distance between them and decimate any slim glimmer of hope that he had for their reconciliation. He sighed, relaxed his shoulders. The adrenaline fueling his anger finally left his body and his chin dropped to his chest.

“No. I don’t.” He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “Fuck. I hate it when you’re right.”

Mor smiled gently, “You think you’d be used to it by now.”

Mirthless chuckles left his lips. He took a few steps away and collapsed into the chair he’d gripped before. All eyes were on him. Azriel regarded him with a blank stare tinged with suspicion, but Rhys brushed it off.

“Is she okay?”

Mor nodded enthusiastically, “Much better. She’s almost back to her old self.”

“Now that we’ve got that settled,” Amren interrupted the silence, “Can I go now? I have a hot date with my own sofa and a bottle of Day Court wine.”

Rhys waved his hand in front of him absentmindedly. “Go, enjoy your wine.” Amren disappeared, but the other three fae remained.

“How about you, Rhys,” Cassian piped up. “You okay?”

Rhys let himself relax, let his mind wander a bit until a cold hand gripped his diaphragm and squeezed — fear, he was feeling fear but not his own.

‘Please, somebody, say something! Help me! Save me!’

He snapped to attention at the pleading voice in his head. All he said was, “Feyre,” before he winnowed away.

His mate was in trouble, and he had to help her.

Niamh could wait.

Part 4

#acotar fic #acomaf fic #acotar #acomaf #rhysand x oc #rhysand fic #rhysand angst #rhys x oc #rhys fic #azriel x oc #azriel shadowsinger #inner circle #spring court princess #therapy #fae therapist #velaris

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lostbetweenthepagesofthesebooks · 8 months ago

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"Night Triumphant - and the Stars Eternal." (A Court of Wings and Ruin, Maas, p. 394).

Overall: ⭐⭐⭐⭐1/2 Characters: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Plot: ⭐⭐⭐⭐1/2

Okay I’m trying a different direction when it comes to these reviews. I’m spending way too much doing a play by play of the book, and that should really be on ya’ll, ya know. I wanted this blog to basically be a journal of these books I’m reading. A place to pour out my thoughts and feelings, criticisms and praises. There will still be somewhat of an overview of the book, for those that are looking for that with some minimal commentary, and then below the cut will continue to be full on commentary that will include spoilers. So here we go…

Ya’ll. For me. This is the one that really did it. But this is more of a commentary on me more than anything. I love some action, I particularly love some action when abilities/powers/supernaturalness is in play. I love seeing full frontal super powers. Not that ACOMAF didn’t have a good amount, but there’s so much more in this one, and more from other characters.

So we start back in the Spring Court, and Feyre is playing her part as the woman had her mind messed with by Rhysand, and attempting to appear in love with Tamlin, but secretly plotting as the High Lady of the Night Court (which no one but the Dreamers are aware of just yet). Spring Court is working on their now unfortunate alliance with Hybern. Tamlin continues to think the alliance will be good, and his people will be safe. Hybern is clearly using the Spring Court to get close to the wall that divides the Fae and Human Realms, and start making frequent visits to the court to inspect the wall. We get Ianthe, Jurian, and two Hybern commanders here. Eventually, Feyre plots the perfect revenge, and executes it very well (for the most part, anyways).

Feyre manages to escape out of Spring, along with Lucien; slightly out of his choice, slightly out of force, and slightly out of his need… to see his mate. Unfortunately, Feyre and Lucien get completely tapped of their powers, so they must travel on foot, through the different courts. Autumn Court is first, and we get to see just how “horrible” Lucien’s brothers are. We briefly get into Winter Court, and here we have a fun little brawl because Cassian and Azriel arrive just in time as Feyre and Lucien are again dealing with his brothers.

We get back into Night Court, and this is where more plotting kicks in. Feyre continues to train in fighting and her powers, and attempts to learn to fly as she learns she also gained shape-shifting powers from Tamlin, notably in the form of batwings, just like our batboys. We also learn of Nesta training with Amren. Because spoiler Nesta and Elain came out more than High Fae. Nesta is described as seeming to have an immense, dark power. Elain’s come in strange visions.

At some point all the High Lords, and Lady, have a meeting in order to come together to deal with Hybern. And I do mean all the Lords. They do all agree to work together. Feyre forms a few more alliance’s in order to deal with Hybern because their armies are that vast. As well as some human alliances.

Eventually we get into a whole lot of fighting. There are multiple battles before the actual war. Plenty of action with abilities being used. There’s a lot during the battles too that are important to the overall plot. During the actual war, there are also major events. There is a death as well… not really major for the reader, if I’m being honest, but major for some of the characters. And… I think I’ll leave it at that….

I do recommend this one, obviously haha. I loved the action sequences and the plotting so much. We got more of all the characters, characters mentioned, and characters hinted at. We got to explore a little more of the Fae world. We get some beasties. And for those that like it, there’s plenty of smut. I for sure got what I wanted out of this book.

Remember ya’ll this WILL contain spoilers. I need to vent!!!

This is the book where I finally started falling in love with the characters, especially Feyre. It didn’t feel like she had much of a character before, and now she really comes into herself. The plotting and scheming in the Spring Court I absolutely loved. It was clever and a bit stressful as well, but it definitely felt like Feyre, if this makes sense. I enjoyed that Tamlin not only got what he deserved for being an idiot with his thoughtless alliance, but I liked that Feyre got her piece of revenge out of it as well. I still do not hate Tamlin ya’ll, and it was almost sad. But I do think if Feyre hadn’t manipulated his court a bit, they would’ve been way worse for wear. Hybern would’ve destroyed the Spring Court. To me, Feyre just pulled the curtain from their eyes. As for Ianthe? I do hate her, actually. And she deserves the literal battering Feyre gives her, and then her eventual death that Feyre leads her to via The Weaver. Also the Hybern commander's death? Amazing.

Traveling through the Court’s was fun for me. I’m really dying to see more of all the courts. We mostly see Autumn as Feyre and Lucien are traveling, and if Beron wasn’t just the absolute worst, I would love Autumn Court. It sounds so beautiful and calming; then again, I just love fall so. We get to see some of Feyre’s fire abilities here, as well as Lucien’s brothers using their own. And you know me by now… I love seeing powers/abilities and I’m a little bored with Feyre not tapping into more of all of her abilities. But speaking of this… when Feyre starts to train with flying, it’s irritating to me that she is clearly grasping the concept quickly. I mean in the end she still isn’t that good, but Cass and Az make it seem like it took them forever, and Feyre grasps it just enough to actually be beneficial when she needs it to. I don’t like this. I don’t like it when books or even movies/show make it so the main character is inherently really good at whatever thing or makes it so they grasp it quickly. It just feels lazy to me.

We met the monster that is the Bone Carver in the last book, we get more of him. I love him. He’s witty and clever. We meet another little monster that is living in the bottom of a library: Bryaxis. An adorable, absolute fear monster. I love these awful little monsters! Speaking of little monsters, please tell me I’m not the only one that nearly cried during the Suriel’s death???! Why was that oddly so fucking sad? Bone Carver made me sad too. I found that rude. I wanted more from him. The Weaver? Meh. The King of Hybern just casually snapping her neck was a pretty cool visual though, I can’t deny that.

The other major court we get to see is the Dawn Court, which sounds so splendid. Not my ideal court, but I’d love to see it regardless. Just hearing Feyre’s description of these courts makes me want a TV show or movie series…. But with a good producer, director, cinematographer, and actors. I will be highly disappointed if they do make an adaptation and it’s so painfully green screen. The meeting of the High Lords and Lady was honestly everything I expected. We had painfully prideful men, but also different personalities on display, which I do think SJM did a decent job with. Even Tamlin’s appalling diss towards Feyre was kind of epic… I mean… you can’t necessarily blame him for hitting a low blow ya’ll. Anyways. Mans get what he deserves.

I’m not necessarily mad about Nesta having extra abilities, which we get some on display in this book right… but I just find it kind of lame that not only does Feyre get to live with her sisters now for an extremely long amount of time because they’ve been made into Fae. But now they too have these incredible abilities… just like Feyre. I mean their abilities did add into the plot, their abilities are fun to see so far, but I was just kind of like “....really?...okay…”

Anyways, during the war, seeing some of Nesta’s power face off against the King was fun to watch, and I am glad here that SJM didn’t outright have Nesta come into her full power. I do also like that Elain is the one that lands the killing blow. There was something almost poetic about Nesta and Elain managing this.

And whoever thought Amren actually betrayed Feyre and the Dreamers… ya’ll ain’t right for that. I liked what SJM tried to do here. But she wrote Amren’s love for the Night Court and loyalty to Rhysand too well. It was clear as fucking day that Amren would never have truly betrayed them like this. At least some of ya’ll had to see that, and had to know that Amren had a trick up her sleeve. I was a little disappointed in her true form though. It just didn’t sound quite as badass as SJM hyped her up to be. It also got ruined when there was another fire-like being on the battlefield. Andddd I think that’s all the opinions I really had on this one. The ending didn’t necessarily surprise me. Of course Rhys wasn’t going to actually die. That would be ridiculous… at least just yet. But… I mean… I am a little disappointed there wasn’t a major death. There’s been no major loss in 3 books thus far, with major battles. I don’t know anything about SJM and her characters, but if she can’t let them go, I’m gonna be disappointed is all I’m saying.

Read on beautiful people. 📖🤘

#book blog #bookblr #reading #reading journal #book recommendations #book review #book #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #acotar #acowar #sjm #sjmaas #sarah j maas

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hauntedwitch04 · 3 years ago

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Overprotective Illiryan

Part.1

Cassian x reader

Words: about 1.5k

Warnings: cursing, Court of Nightmare (that is a warning itself), fluff Cass, flirty Rhys (in a friendly way)

Author’s note: Hi! It’s been a while since I wrote something about the batboys. I thought about this as a oneshot, that I liked this too much so I decided to divide it into two parts, this is the first, the second will come out tomorrow. Hope that you like it.

P.s. Y/F is meant as "your father"

My masterlist

Taglist

Gif not mine, credit to the owner

Ever since I joined the Inner Circle, I knew Cassian would be a problem. Rhysand had brought me into his court after saving me from the Nightmare Court.

There was a huge celebration that night for the arrival of the High Lord, but there was nothing to celebrate for me. My family had decided a few weeks ago on the man I should marry, since I had recently had my bleeding. The fact was that I didn't want to, so I had tried to run away several times, but somehow the guards had always managed to catch me and bring me back to my family.

That night my father wanted to ask for the blessing of the High Lord himself, since usually the delegate accepted the unions that are celebrated in the Court of Nightmares, but in this case since there was the sovereign himself, he wanted to ask him directly.

He had dragged me along with him in front of Rhysand's throne, until we were at the most powerful man in the world.

Y/F: "My High Lord, I am here to ask you to accept the union between my daughter and the noble heir to the House of Black( shh I am not obsessed with Regulus Black ;) )"

Rhysand looked me fixedly in the eye, I was on the ground as I still struggled and tried to escape from my father's grasp. I moved my lips, but didn't speak, so I only spoke words of help, with tears streaming down my cheeks stained with the ruined makeup my mother had forced me to wear, along with that uncomfortable dress. For a moment I saw compassion in those beautiful purple eyes, but immediately they shifted from me to my father.

Rhysand: "No, I do not accept this union. Moreover, the girl will come with me to my court, where I believe she will find a better companion than the heir to the Black family. Now if you will excuse me, I have business to attend to in my court. Come on girl, move along."

I get up from the ground and nod as Rhysand removes my father's hand from my arm, which by now was all red from the force with which it was gripped. Wiping away my tears, the High Lord puts his arm around my waist and leads me outside, as I can still hear my father's protests echoing behind us from when the man next to me had pronounced my sentence. Rhysan gestures with his hand without even turning around, and immediately instead of the screams from before, I hear cries of pain and I can't help but smile at the fact.

Rhysand: "What is your name my dear?"- asks calm and gentle in my ear the High Lord as we exit the throne room.

Y/N: "Y/N, my lord"

Rhysand: " Well, Y/N you don't have to worry about your family anymore,"- he says kissing my cheek where I knew there was a bruise left from a slap from my father a few days before- " you are safe now, and call me Rhysand please, you are part of the family now."

______________________________

Rhysand always told me that he had seen a special force in my eyes, more powerful than his power and more powerful than anything else in the world: hope.

In my eyes was the hope that I would live the life I wanted, the certainty that I would escape, and he had been able to do nothing but make me fulfill my destiny.

That evening when we returned to the Court of Dreams, I had met the rest of the family. Immediately Mor and I bonded with each other over our similar life story. Amren had welcomed me with "open arms" as well, with what can only be described as a look that would set someone on fire, which is a good thing according to Rhysand since if she didn't like me she would have really set me on fire. I quickly found a dear friend in Azriel, though so quiet and reserved, who had told me that if I needed someone to talk to, he was always available.

Then I saw Cassian, the most handsome man I had ever seen in my life, as well as one of the kindest and funniest. He had immediately offered to go and beat up anyone who hurt me, but when he had seen that I wasn't quite ready to talk about that he had started joking around and talking about funny stories that happened when he, Az and Rhys were boys. He had made me forget everything and at that moment I knew it was going to be a big deal.

As soon as I got out of that hellhole I had called home for so long, before Rhysand moved us into his house on the river I promised myself that I would never fall in love with a man, since the last one who had promised me his love for eternity had run away as soon as my father had threatened him a little, after deciding that I would marry the Black heir, leaving me to be beaten by my own family and to suffer alone. But dammit the General and Commander of the Night Court's armies had turned all my plans upside down.

________________________________

Like every usual week, today we gathered at the wind house for our family dinner. I just arrived with Mor, while the three batboys are already seated at the table, intent on eating some appetizers that the house made appear for them.

Mor: "I'm glad to see that you guys waited for us, thank you."

Rhysand: "Actually we weren't waiting for you cousin, we were waiting for Amren, you know how she gets mad if we don't wait for her. Y/N, how did the meeting with the northern tribes go?"

Y/N: "Good, they almost killed me, but it went well. The council wasn't happy with me attending though, instead of you."

Rhysand: "Let them get over it, it's a thousand times better that you went, I would have been bored and not listening to anything. Besides I sent you because I knew a pretty girl would certainly convince them more than me."

I snort smiling at the stupid words spoken by my friend, as I sit between Cassian and Azriel, while Mor takes a seat next to Rhysand who is in front of me. Cassian turns to me with a confused and worried expression, not before giving his brother a dirty look.

Cassian: "Didn't you tell me about this mission? Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

Rhysand: "Brother, calm down or people will think you fell in love with her"-he says winking at me. Asshole. The guy in front of me has always known about the huge crush I have on the general next to me, and he doesn't miss a chance to tease me a little. Azriel laughs under his breath at the scene in front of him; he too knows of my feelings for the long-haired Illryan, but unlike Rhysand his jokes aren't expected, and they come at the most "compromising" moments; for example, the last time I trained with them, Cassian and I ended up doing hand-to-hand training, eventually falling on top of each other, and Az had said something like to get a room, rather than do certain things in public... I've never felt my cheeks blush so much in such a short amount of time. Cassian, however, ignores his brother's words and continues to look at me waiting for a response.

Y/N: "I'm fine Cas, don't worry, I just have a little cut on my arm, but nothing serious really."- I say showing him my arm, which he takes and examines carefully and then says.

Cassian: "Let's call Madja tomorrow to take a look at it."

Y/N: "Cassian it's a little cut! No one has ever died from a little cut!"

Cassian: "I don't care, let's call Madja tomorrow."

Y/N: "Ahh how I hate you Illiryans and your super protective instincts."

Cassian: "Sorry honey I care about you."

My heart flutters in my chest at his words, my ears plug and the only thing I hear repeated in my mind is the last sentence he said. I try to suppress a silly little smile that forms on my lips as my friends continue to talk.

I only return to the conversation they are having after I hear Rhysand utter what sounds like my death sentence.

Rhysand: "Y/N, we have to go to the Nightmare Court. I'm sorry but you have to come too.

#cassian x reader #imagine acotar #acotar x reader #acotar #hauntedwitch04's writing

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nikethestatue · 3 years ago

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Hi!

I really love your writing. Not to sound like a creep but I've read and reread all your stories multiple times. I think honestly no one writes romantic moments like you and may I ask you to write a one off with Azriel braiding Elain's hair? My birthday is coming up and it would be a gift. You don't have to but if you can it would be amazing.

Happy upcoming birthday, darling Anon! Thank you for your compliments and here you go!

The Braid

It was an early morning when Azriel arrived at the River Estate.

Rhys wanted an early meeting, but it was barely after 5 o’clock in the morning and as he entered the empty, quiet mansion, Azriel remembered that not everyone was as early a riser as he was.

Elain was. The only one to rise like the sun, and glow each morning with her special light.

Before everything had gone to shit, he secretly craved a glimpse of that light every morning. When he was feeling bold, he’d actually join her for breakfast, for her first cup of tea, and his first cup of coffee. Just the two of them in the kitchen, no one to interfere or gawk. Their sacred, private moments together. She’d ask him about his previous day and his plans, and they’d talk about the news, and sometimes, she’d giggle and hand him the newest gossip magazine, and they’d discuss all the naughty happenings of the Velaris rich and famous. With Elain, it didn’t feel awkward and he didn’t need to put on his mask of indifference, for she would not mock him or make fun of him, if she knew that he enjoyed reading the tabloids. She did as well and it was their little secret—both were invested in the development of a potential affair of a prominent actress from the Night Court and a married Prince from Day Court.

Azriel loved supplying Elain with little tidbits of information that he learned throughout the day, known only to him, and then watch how she’d cover her mouth and how her beautiful eyes grew wide when he whispered the latest developments to her. It was so perfectly normal, so tender and pure that he even allowed himself the pointless fantasies of how one day, this may take place in their own home, not his brother’s. He imagined how he and Elain would wake up together, after a night of her sleeping draped over him, her breath soothing and peaceful on his chest, every curve of hers pressed into him. They’d make breakfast together and talk and laugh and the kitchen would smell of coffee and pastry. It would be the smell of their home. And sometimes, or rather often, he thought of making love to her as well—maybe in their kitchen, maybe in the garden, in their bed…He thought about it a lot. But he was just as happy thinking of how Elain would be his home—to greet him in the morning with her luminous smile and the wave of her honey-golden hair and to greet him in the evening, when he returned to her and wrapped his arms around her, his troubles forgotten.

Today, even the kitchen was silent. No Elain to greet him.

Yes, it’s been tense and awkward between them since the disaster that was the last Solstice. Gone were the mornings of quiet laughter, coffee and gossiping. Gone were the moments of her squeezing his fingers in reassurance, before he stood up to leave. Her little way of wishing him a good day. Her promise to think of him throughout the day, and then send him off with a soft smile. Nowadays, they never spent time together, alone. If there was breakfast, there was at least six people in the room, and chaos.

He walked down the hallway and then made his way up the stairs, to his room, which he hardly ever used.

His keen hearing picked up the sounds of whispering and quiet laughter first. Then, Elain’s scent flooded his senses and he paused in the hallway. Her bedroom door was slightly ajar and before he knew what he was doing, he was peering into the bedroom. His shadows floated around him, concealing him when he forgot to hide himself.

Elain was seated in front of her vanity, the first rays of morning sun gilding her in gold and bronze. Cerridwen was standing behind, holding the mass of Elain’s hair in one hand and a brush in another. They were laughing, carefree, and Azriel was happy for both of them—that they, and Nuala, found each other and became such good friends. He was forever grateful to the twins for their kindness and for allowing the bruised, aching and traumatized girl into their little world. The half-wraiths did not encourage closeness and only considered him as a friend, even if they technically served him and Rhysand. But they accepted Elain and the three became true friends and companions.

He held his breath, needing to watch. Wanting. Wanting so much of what he couldn’t have. Wanting to take Cerridwen’s place. Wanting to feel Elain’s smooth silken skin against his lips. Wanting her to lean into him, trusting and loving. Wanting. Wanting. Wanting.

“Azriel.”

His name on Elain’s lips started him. He actually flinched.

She never called him by his name. Ever. As if it was too intimate and would bring down even more barriers between the two of them. As if they both knew that his name would be the one she’d moan in her pleasure, writhing against him. His name would be the name she’d whisper when she spoke the words of love. Instead of his name, she always offered him a special smile that she reserved only for him.

“Azriel,” she said again.

He couldn’t read the tone of her voice.

It jolted him. That somehow, they’d grown so far apart that he couldn’t read her expression, and didn’t understand her mood.

Cerridwen stepped back and turned around, looking at him. That look was inscrutable as well, but something in it told him that it would be alright…that he could step inside and he’d be welcome.

So he did.

He entered Elain’s bedroom.

Her jasmine and honey scented bedroom.

Terrible idea.

Of all the bad ideas he’d ever had, this was by far the worst.

Standing in Elain’s bedroom, her bed not even made yet, her naked body barely concealed beneath a flimsy nightgown, her hair streaming about her like a river of molten bronze.

“I shall go see about breakfast,” Cerridwen announced quietly, and Azriel made a move to stop her, but she slipped through his fingers, the naughty wraith.

And then it was just the two of them. Elain was watching him in the mirror, making no moves, quiet.

He approached. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

He shouldn’t be here. It wasn’t right.

But before he knew what he was doing, he moved.

He just moved and his scarred fingers were in her hair, threading gently through the softness, trying not to snag any. He couldn’t help himself. It felt so good. She was next to him again, and for a moment, he could imagine that it was just the two of them. That she was his.

Silently, he picked up the brush and ran it through the hair, down, down, down, and watched Elain’s beautiful throat bob, her chest rising and falling softly, her plump, lovely breasts swelling against the material. He noticed it all. Every move and sigh and hitch. But he said nothing and just brushed her hair.

He didn’t know what compelled him, but he divided the locks into three equal parts and wondered if he would remember how to plait. He did. Elain still said nothing, and just watched him with a tormented hunger in her eyes, as her cheeks darkened and bloomed with a deep blush. Slowly, he crossed and tightened the strands of her hair in his hands, remembering to be gentle and not tug, but he didn’t think that Elain would mind if he tugged, if he wrapped the hair around his fist and pulled her head back, if he feasted on her long neck, if he bit and marked her.

But he just braided her hair.

Wordlessly, she handed him a blue ribbon, and surprising himself, he managed to weave it into the strands before securing the braid with a knot and even making a little bow. Yes, he the Spymaster and Shadowsinger of the Night Court, had tied a little blue bow at the end of Elain Archeron’s braid.

He let go of the braid that tumbled down her back.

“Until tomorrow then,” she said at last.

Until tomorrow then.

And for the first time in a very, very long time, Azriel smiled.

#elain and azriel #elain x nuala x cerridwen #elriel fanfiction #elriel #azriel #elain archeron fanfction #elain acheron #my writing #azriel and elain

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readychilledwine · 6 months ago

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Batboys as coparents?

Batboy Coparenting Headcanons

Warnings - Azriel girlies aren't going to like this, slightly Harem mentioned, coparenting in general

Rhysand

You met Rhysand at a ball. Your father was one of his father's advisors, and it was love at first sight.

You two courted and married many years before he went under the mountain, leading to the birth of your daughter, Stella.

Stella is Rhysand's world, and when he became trapped, thoughts of her were what caused him to do everything he felt he had to.

He'd burn the world to keep her safe. He knew the mating bond would snap between you two. He just needed to get back to you for it to happen.

His world crashed down on him when it was Feyre instead. Then again, when he came home and a grown female stood where his sweet baby once did.

In his frustration and healing, you two still fucked like rabbits. Leading to yet another babe, one that grew as you watched your husband distant himself as he fell in love with Feyre.

You tried to leave so many times, but you love him, and he does love you. And slowly, so did Feyre.

Coparenting does not exist with Rhysand. Once you give birth, all three of you parent your new son, and in turn, your daughter.

When Feyre is pregnant with Nyx, the expectation is the same.

You three become a very happy throuple, with many, many children involved.

Cassian

I've given a little bit of a preview of this before. Peep Co Parents here

Cassian is the easiest to coparent with

You were a one night stand from a drunken forget Nesta night.

Finding out from Madja that you were pregnant terrified Cassian. He felt he had singlehandedly signed your death certificate

The babe had wings as to be expected, but somehow, you carried her to term and gave birth easily

Cassian struggled for awhile, he wanted it all. He felt he deserved the world.

But you and Nesta did not feel that way. You both wanted to be someone's first choice.

Nesta was obviously his, leading to many days spent with Rhysand being a neutral 3rd party the best he could be.

Obviously, he wanted his niece with them at all times, especially with the recent birth of Nyx, but your role was vital to her survival.

You two settled on you maintaining primary custody until she was weened and eating solid foods, then you would go 50/50 with alternating holidays.

Cassian provides you with child support regardless of that agreement. He gives you enough to get into and cover a lavish loft for both of you and any needs his baby girl has.

Cassian sees paying your rent as ensuring his daughter has a home with you, and taking care of you is just as important to him as taking care of his daughter.

Once you two go to 50/50 and you are able to work more, you insist he stops, but he instead buys off your loft, now allowing his money to focus on his daughter's necessities.

This leads to you giving him and nesta a spare key, letting them know they can come by whenever they'd like.

The relationship between you and Nesta is a blossoming one. The two of you become very close friends, and she comes over for girls' nights one a week and mom's night one a week.

Her pregnancy is an absolute joy for all 4 of you, but Cassian still makes sure he speaks to you and your daughter privately, ensuring you two know this changes nothing. That he is there for the long haul.

Soon, there are no divided holidays. Just all of you as an odd family gathered together to celebrate.

Cassian is the fairytale dream coparent. Nothing can change my mind on that

Azriel

Azriel is the most difficult to coparent with.

You were one of his rebounds after Elain. You are allergic to the contraceptive tonics, and Azriel had been too lazy to take his.

You sighed as the healer in Windhaven told you it wasn't sickness but pregnancy.

You were to be the mother of a bastard's bastard, and the bastard had not even acknowledged your presence since he fucked you in the weapons shed.

You learned soon after his bond with Gwyn had snapped, and you knew instantly that this babe would not be a priority to him.

He ran into you, quite literally, when you were 7 months pregnant. He goes pale as he realizes his scent is lingering heavily on you.

"What are you going to do?"

"You're fucking joking. What the fuck do you think?"

Azriel tries to convince you many times to just give the baby up, and you can't tell if it is because of his guilt or because he is genuinely that uninterested.

Rhysand and Cassian are the ones who approach you, instantly stepping up where their brother is failing.

You give birth to his son, YOUR son, on Starfall, and pick the name Erebus much to Rhysand's glee.

Azriel is in and out of his life and shotty with helping you raise him despite Rhysand moving you to Velaris

You have no relationship with Gwyn and find out Azriel had not even bothered telling until Rhysand showed up one day with his son, shoving the boy into his arms and commanding him to bond with him.

Overall, raising a baby with Azriel is not a great experience, but you have his brothers to stand in his place, and you help you with your son.

#elizabeths.updates #acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #rhys x reader #rhysand x reader #cassian x reader #cassian acotar #acotar x reader headcanons #acotar headcanons

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unhealthyfanobsession · 4 years ago

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I teased this in a previous post and people asked me to expand so...here’s my controversial take that Rhysand and Nesta are actually parallel characters in many ways and that they both hate each other so much because they ultimately hate themselves.

Alright ladies and gentleman, anti’s and stans, buckle your fucking seatbelts or hope off the roller coaster here because I’m about to learn you a thing or two about the most divisive characters in the ACOTAR world.

Starting out very broadly- both characters are introduced as sort of confusing villains (Rhys is “evil” but he’s also helping Feyre. Nesta is an “awful sister”, but she also is protective of Elain and tells Feyre essentially to go and be happy), both have faced significant trauma and grapple with self-loathing and feelings of not being good enough, and both ultimately find redemption and healing with their mates who love them. They also both currently exist in a strange parallel coming out of ACOSF where Rhys is supposedly “chosen by the Cauldron” and Nesta is “blessed by the Mother”- the two sacred entities of Prythian.

Intrigued? More specifics and text analysis under the cut

Mommy (and Daddy) Issues:

Both characters were basically raised by their mother’s alone and then lost them at a young age and that had a deep impact on them. Rhysand had a far more positive experience of being raised by his mother HOWEVER I would argue that it was still “grooming” of a type since she took him away to train in Illyria specifically so that he wouldn’t be influenced by his father.

Rhys’ mother did this out of love and Nesta’s mother groomed her out of a social climbing agenda, but it had the same effect- they both lost the parent who was their primary caregiver at a young age and they were both not close with their father’s because of their mother’s actions (again this was a good thing for Rhys, not as much for Nesta).

Parents Death: Rhys and Nesta both blame themselves for one of their parent’s death and are deeply affected by feeling like they failed someone important to them.

Rhys thinks that he is responsible for his mother and sister’s death because he gave Tamlin info

Rhys even says after this “It should have been me.”

Nesta feels that she was unable to save her father and she hates herself for it.

Rocky sibling relationship and Separation:

Rhysand and Cassian are obviously a lot further along in their sibling journey, but it’s stated that he and Cassian HATED each other and fought constantly essentially until Azriel arrived and then they decided to be “allies”.

Nesta and Feyre are also at each others throats but seem to put their differences aside in order to not upset Elain. (Even when Feyre first goes back to the human lands Nesta says NOPE NO FAE! But as soon as Elain asks her to do as Feyre says she agrees) and then Nesta states in ACOSF that she and Feyre were brought together by Elain to be allies in the war.

Rhysand and Cassian obviously grew into true brothers despite their adversarial, insulting, bitter beginning... and Nesta and Feyre after ACOSF have done the same. Obviously there’s still a lot of work to be done in that relationship, but the parallel stands (and is just strengthened by the fact that in both cases it’s the character with more power in the relationship- Nesta for being the oldest and Rhys for being the one whose family took Cassian in is then mated to the opposite sibling!)

Both have a parent who essentially separated them from their ‘siblings’ for their own benefit. Nesta’s mom isolated her as a child so that she could groom her and tell her how to maneuver her sisters when the time was right while Rhys’ father- afraid of his, Cassian, and Azriel’s combined power- separated them for 7 years through the first war to ensure they wouldn’t ally against him. Nesta was also separated from Feyre by Tamlin and tried to go to the wall to get her back but couldn’t get through- which is very reminiscent to me of the scene at the beginning of ACOWAR from the first war where Rhys is searching desperately but without hope for Cassian.

Shared Trauma and Learning to be “Evil” to protect their family:

both characters are sexual assault survivors who spend a chunk of their book (I’m counting ACOMAF as essentially Rhys’ book since that’s when we learn more about him as a character) grappling with that, coming to terms with it, and moving forward with a general attitude of “Never Again.” I would also argue that even their abusers are parallels as Rhysand was only ‘with’ Amarantha because he was trying to protect his family and Nesta was only ‘with’ Tomas because she thought his family might be able to take in and feed Elain (she says in ACOSF that she would give him whatever he wanted- her body meant nothing to her and Elain meant everything, which is essentially Rhys’ UTM mindset). In addition, both characters are able to escape their abusers out of love for Feyre. Rhys does so when Amarantha is about to kill Feyre, and Nesta does so because she realizes that Tomas would never go to the wall with her to save Feyre.

Beyond this, both characters express that it is the lack of control over their own lives that truly haunts them. Rhys when he felt like he had no choice but to be Amarantha’s puppet and Nesta with a lot of her life, but especially when she is forced into the cauldron. Both of these are things that make them feel like failures for not protecting others. Rhys is haunted that he couldn’t protect Feyre under the mountain and Nesta is haunted that she couldn’t protect Elain from the cauldron.

This leads both characters to have a terrifying power-surge nightmare brought on by their trauma (Rhys from Amarantha; Nesta from the Cauldron) that terrifies those around them and can only be stopped by their mate.

In addition to this, they both have a “persona” that they put on and sometimes feel like they can’t shake off, a face that they made to protect themselves and their family. Rhys with his “Court of Nightmares” persona that he uses UTM, in the Hewn City, and with the other High Lords until the war. Part of his growth is letting people see beyond that ‘most powerful high lord of darkness’ mask.

For Nesta this is expressed by her “wolves” that she uses to put up a wall between her and the people who mocked her and her family, and especially Elain. And her learning to open up with Cassian and her found family was really important for her growth

HOWEVER, they both also keep that persona. Rhys has his mask polished for when anyone might threaten the people he loves and so does Nesta. Neither of them truly gave up that side of themselves, the darkness, they simply learned to stop it from consuming them.

They also both LIKE doing this to their enemies. Rhys likes to toy with his enemies and torture those who would harm his family or betray him and so does Nesta- she revels in cutting down anyone who insults Elain and says in ACOSF that she’s felt the urge to do the same for Cassian. They both wield words like weapons and use their intelligence to ensure they are always one quip ahead of their enemies. Something that both Feyre and Cassian admire in their mates and try to emulate to a degree.

(Bonus points for the fact that in both cases their families did not ASK to be protected/sacrificed for.)

Found family and sacrifice:

Rhys calls Cassian and Azriel his “brothers” after becoming close while training and they conquer the blood rite together. Nesta calls Emerie and Gwyn her “sisters” after becoming close while training and they conquer the blood rite together. Rhys sacrifices himself to Amarantha in order to protect Cassian and Azriel (and Velaris). Nesta sacrifices herself to hold the path of Enalius to protect Emerie and Gwyn. There’s also a line in ACOMAF and a parallel line in ACOSF essentially about Nesta being willing to do anything- including “whore” herself- to protect Elain, and in order to protect his brother’s that’s exactly what Rhys did- “whore” himself to Amarantha.

Both are ‘saved by’ and feel not good enough for their mate:

I hesitate to use the word “saved by” because ultimately both characters have more agency than that, HOWEVER, both characters rely on their mate to a degree to pull them out of a very dark time and place. Feyre helps Rhys remember who he is and forgive himself for under the mountain and he even specifically calls her his “salvation.”

I don’t think I need to even say the Nesta part here, all of ACOSF is essentially Cassian helping Nesta climb out of a dark period so that they can heal together.

(Both also start connecting with their mates on a “just sex” situation.)

Both characters think that because of the things they’ve done and the darkness inside of them that they don’t deserve the people they have been mated to.

Obviously there are many differences, but the characters are similar in a lot of ways and what I think this really highlights is just how true that line is in ACOSF about Nesta being a wolf that was never allowed to learn how to be a wolf. Meanwhile Rhys is 500 years older and has always had power and agency of some kind even at his lowest point. Nesta didn’t have that power and wasn’t allowed to really unleash herself so she armed herself with a steel exterior to make up for that lack of power and control. Which is very similar to what Rhysand did when he felt he didn’t have power under the mountain- put on a cold face, not let anyone in, and act cruel in order to get through it.

Overall it’s an interesting character study because in a lot of ways these are very similar characters, but there is such a MASSIVE divide among the fandom of liking and hating one or both of them. Ultimately, I do think that a lot of the hate Nesta gets is because she’s a woman and female characters simply aren’t allowed to have the same flaws as male ones- which is kind of Nesta’s whole life story. BUT I think that Rhysand actually gets unintentionally screwed over by the narrative in one big way. Becuase my final paralell is that I think a lot of people came around on Nesta when they saw in her perspective that she knows she has problems and how much she was struggling… and I also think that Rhysand is so hated by those who dislike him because of Feyre’s ‘he can do no wrong’ perspective. I think if we saw more of Rhysand internally struggling and knowing that he made the wrong call sometimes and second guessing himself he’d be a lot more likeable character. We know he’s capable of this because when Cassian calls him out on the training roof for always thinking the worst of Nesta he just says “you’re right. I’m sorry” and he even *kinda* admits some wrong when he’s so shocked by how deep Nesta’s trauma is. Feyre and the rest of the IC constantly exalting Rhys as perfect when he so clearly isn’t and in fact has a lot of the same “flaws” as Nesta is probably the most frustrating thing about the character, which ultimately I think is kind of unfair because we know from his few perspectives that he doesn’t see himself that way.

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flowerflamestars · 4 years ago

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Main Issues with Feysand's leadership: it mostly consists on rather inmature, underdeveloped strategy that would in no way get a world leader very far in the real world (see: 'i schooled my face into a look of boredom'), seem content in making enemies left to right as long as they never have to step down from the pedestal that they've built, and see Illyria as a necessary evil, like wtf. In conclusion, Rhysand is a governor for Velaris, but is not fit to be the ruler of the Night Court.

Rounding caveat, because I know I’m going to get shouty: the dividing line between ToG and ACOTAR is that tog is a fantasy series with romance, and acotar is a romance series in a fantasy world. They’re not the same. I’d be totally fine with how the world building in acotar is v handywavy, because it’s still accomplishing what the books set out to do (tell a love story, hello acomaf) but- BUT, it’s not consistent. And that inconsistency wildly undermines the characters.

And god, if Rhysand as a ruler isn’t the heart of ???? spirit.

We’re not going to talk about how the plot of acotar only makes sense backwards (Hey, Rhys, why did you want to kidnap every month a powerless mortal girl???), we’re just going to talk about reputation.

So Rhys is a villain who we learn isn’t actually evil. A classic. He was made to do terrible things by Amarantha! He sacrificed himself to save his friends! Of course the High Lords hate him, they think he sided with the enemy.

That could have been the whole thing- the layers pulled back, Rhysand also a victim, a reason for the world to hate him but for Feyre to see otherwise.

OKAY BUT- then we learn? that Rhysand has been playing Evil Scary Jackass in all political situations? for his entire reign? that’s just what he does?

Round two: Rhys had to be Amarantha’s because he had to “shield the knowledge” of his friends and his capitol? city.

BUT- other people Under the Mountain, also accessible to Amarantha, know the IC??? have been acquainted with them for years? They’re not a secret. Mor was almost married out, Az and Cas are legendary, Amren is a story people tell.

And all those people are probably incentivized by the fact that, you know, they think Rhysand is an evil traitor.

Furthermore: guess who willing cooperated with Amarantha? The Court of Nightmares. Recall who, surprise in acowar, knows all about Velaris: Keir.

Round three: Sexy Evil Cosplay, wherein we learn that not only instead of just keeping it together in politics Rhys has adopted an entire secondary persona, we learn he also...uses this persona...to scare all the other highborn faeries into submission....so he? never has to talk to them?

BUT ALSO: this whole thing is undermined by, once more, Keir.

The whole game on the throne is to instill fear/ control of Keir. The whole Second Face. But Keir knows about Velaris? Keir knows exactly what Rhys stands for because Rhys and Cassian tried to rescue Morrigan from the Court of Nightmares when they were teens. Hell, Keir probably knew Rhys when Rhys was a kid.

It’s almost like eventually the person you pretend to be becomes who you are.

I think the Political Rhys vs Real Rhys started out as a plot point, but in character became this: not someone separate at all, but actually, Rhysand’s coping mechanism for making shitty choices.

See: if everyone in the Court of Nightmares bows, I’m ruling them. It doesn’t matter that women are being sold, that there’s servants and presumably totally normal people trapped in a mountain they can’t leave with people I think are monsters.

Let’s jump to Illyria.

How much easier is it, for Rhysand, half-Illyrian himself, to align wholly with the High Fae and say: no, it’s Illyria’s fault. They’re savages, they’re barbarians.

Easy as being a dick to other powerful men because it’s fun when they can’t fight back.

If the blame isn’t his, he keeps his army. He doesn’t have to fight a civil war that might swallow him whole, considering Illyria is the army he controls vs the High Fae soldiers left entirely under Keir’s rule.

If it’s Illyria’s fault he can successfully reimagine the past as he clearly needs to (someday, I’ll make a whole ass post about Rhysand’s mommy issues and how they creepily bleed into Feyre’s characterization, but one thing at a time).

If it’s Illyria’s fault, he can’t be mad about his Mother, daughter of a warrior race, offering him up for brutal, dangerous training. It’s the fault of Illyria. He doesn’t have to imagine he was learning those things, fighting in the mud, because it was the only way his mother could pass the legacy, could say, look, this is where I come from and someday you will have the power to make it better for your sister, for everyone.

He LOVED his mother. He wears the sacred tattoos, manifests wings, has Illyrian “brothers”.

But- It’s Illyria’s fault, so Rhys didn’t fail, Rhys is doing his duty by keeping them in line.

Which brings us to the war.

I’m unclear on why only the Night Court knew Hybern was coming, but let’s just accept that.

But it’s all about the Public Face, moving in the shadows, the two Rhysands. So for the months Feyre is wasting away with Tamlin, planning her wedding Rhys...doesn’t warn anyone. Doesn’t whisper to the other High Lords to shore up defenses.

He makes a plan contingent on 1)that creepy deal with Feyre that he can now both justify and doesn’t want to enforce knowing she’s his mate, and 2) long lost magical objects no one knows the location of, and that don’t belong to him.

Rhys got SO used to the All-Knowing Dickbag face, it’s like he started believing he was all knowing. He’s one of seven Lords, but he doesn’t talk to any of them, on the off chance they don’t do exactly as he says. He steals from Tarquin, a young High Lord kind enough to take a chance on him. He tricks Mor. He lies to...everyone?

And then it’s a big deal, a failure on their part, when at the FINAL HOUR AND LAST MOMENT BEFORE ALL OUT WAR, AFTER THE SECOND INVASION HAS ALREADY COMMENCED, when the High Lords don’t jump to trust Rhys.

A step back, a Feyre tangent: Feyre, younger, also deeply traumatized, falls into this hard. Rhys tells her he’s the underdog, and she believes it. He’s SO SO SO powerful he can take the voice of another High Lord, Feyre herself thinks he’s so magical the gap between him and his contemporaries is like that between humans and high fae-

But hey wait, they don’t trust him because he’s been a dick for five hundred years.

But hey wait, they came as their true selves, they don’t trust him while he’s WEARING ILLYRIAN WINGS- IT’S BECAUSE HE’S DIFFERENT-

No, it is not, but Feyre’s POV sort of wants us to think so.

And that’s where everything sort of falls apart.

The act of power has stopped being an act- it’s just their actions now. And they do not know how to stop.

Because they are in control, and they have to go on for the war. They have to keep making decisions, even if they’ve lost the thread, because they want to survive.

But they do survive.

And it turns out, even after that, they can’t put down the masks fused to their faces, because the act is the only thing keeping them together.

So the balls to the wall, We Must have the High Ground Even at Our Own Dinner Parties, The Center MUST Hold shit just keeps going: tearing down Lucien because he chose something that wasn’t their Court. Letting Illyria crumble because they don’t need the army right now. Banishing Nesta because she’ll never bow to authority.

All the weird, incestuous feeling inter IC drama.

But they’re the underdogs! the Heroes! It’s not their fault!

So they spend their time in Velaris, charmingly hanging out like they’re normal people, thinking they’re better because power is wielded on an unimaginable personal scale.

Rhys loves his people! Rhys sacrificed!

Rhys...careened from one war/disaster to the next, and then settled down to play house?

The narrative cannot decide: is Rhys really an underdog, devoted to his people? How about he helps every other city that Amarantha destroyed?

Is Rhys a Normal Guy who just wants to walk on pretty cobblestone and have a cute, happy family? Maybe, there should be a government so he isn’t solely responsible for everything?

Is Rhys the Lord of Darkness Redeemed by LOVE? Cool, let’s have him maybe he honest with Feyre exactly once, OR, at least talk about how him dying made her go off the rails and try to fix that with a bandage that isn’t baby shaped before Feyre’s 22nd birthday.

Canonically, becoming High Lord is a mystical, magical endowment. That then, for the most part, functions as some kind of mashup Monarchy/ Feudal Lordship.

If that’s what it is, why can’t we lean into that? Rhys who does want a normal happy life with Feyre, trapped by the weight of immovable magic destiny.

King Rhys, duty bound to his bloodline and his people, torn between different ways to rule.

Hell, Rhysand who really is a monster, because maybe Faeries are monstrous by human standards, who shows Feyre the beauty that lies beneath the brutality in a magic, surreal world where everyone is terrifying, but even monsters love.

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